Flexing one hand before her, seeming to be pleased at the fit of the leather despite its meager appearance, Freyja watches the road's passing with a placid, even gaze.  She'd made clear that they should, if for no reason other than to practice, not refer to each other by name, even if they believed themselves alone, nor show any behavior that would seem odd among guards and their well-off wards.<br/><br/>Still, she couldn't resist making a momentary eye contact with Lina, allowing one eye's set of long lashes to flutter gently closed, as she leans out the window of the coach.  "I'm going to the roof to have a look about," she says softly.  "If you hear a thump, please pause long enough to pick me back up and tie me to the sideboards."<br/><br/>Grinning softly, she slips out the window-- the armor seems not to have limited her movement to an observer, but she's aware of it-- aware of the restriction of garments, the loss of fluidity.  Despite this armor's lighter material, it wasn't made for her.  It was like wearing someone else's skin.<br/><br/>Still, she slips out the window like an adder and up onto the roof in a gliding motion, and her feet disappear out the window as she takes to the bench beside Atal.  "How is the pace to you?" she asks, keeping one foot on the bench for traction as she passes her gaze over the sweeping pines and stickbrush of the roadside for any sign of recent passage.