Fallon stays out of the discussion, listening with a wry smirk at Senna's blunt assessment.  "Sounds good.  Anything funny, wake us."  Walking her loaned horse to where the other animals are being hobbled or hitched, Fallon dismounts and gives a relieved sigh.  She stretches fetchingly, eying Senna again when the artificer sits the wagon's running board.  "Feeling caught up after your long night?" she calls as she works at the girth buckles of the saddle so she can brush the animal down.  "The armor's fitting well, by the way--" in an ironically effeminate gesture, she lifts the draped banded-chained skirt at the waist, like a little girl imitating a curtsy, "--though I'll be glad to have my leave of it for a few hours."