He can, as it happens. He balances easily as she moves. The human gait is highly predictable compared to the vagaries of flight.

"I think they were serious." Lightly, like the flick of a knife. He knows they were serious. But truth is useless when trust is worthless. Besides, desperate barricades never helped. There's something out there they have to - find, do, kill. It would be nice if it was kill. He's working on a map of the facility in his head, in his scars.