Kolandra thought it best to just walk along behind at this point, keeping the distance between them the same. He had the front, she had the back. Him with his bolter, her with her witchblade. Rather than speak, she just listened. Listened to anything she could; the clang of metal against metal, the distant voices that could be heard, the faint hum of what could be engines, the creaking of ancient struts and supports, the jingling of her runes against spirit stones and robes, the silent flapping of the templar's marks and sigils before her. Anything really. It was all rather peaceful, in an odd contradictory way.