Relieved in the agreed sentiment, even though it came with a heavy weight of dislike in her direction, Ayla nodded and adjusted the sack she brought form her own inventory in the box. With the books hidden beneath her bag, she stepped further down the road into the wilds of this rest stop island. She felt her eyes water as the wilds approached her course along the road.

She stopped at a distance she considered suitably inland yet not as far as to grant her invisibility from the captain once he removed himself from the main collection of buildings. He may not see her at once upon leaving the hall, but he would not have to venture extremely far to see a familiar silhouette up the hill. 

She had taken the time to wind all her hair up and fashioned the scarf into a snood of sorts, thereby committing as much of her red tresses to secrecy as possible. A few wayward strands would escape around her face and flutter in the breezes that danced in all directions around the small piece of earth, but there was not so much visible that she felt risk of identification from afar; not by anyone who did not know she was already here at least. 

She crouched at the edge of the road, double checking her bundle and keeping her postured stooped. Ayla hoped to pass as elderly or sickly, resting for breath along the walkway. Kneeling beside her provisions, she gazed into the abutment of grass and lightly reached her fingers into the tread of wavering stalks. A forlorn smile painted her face as she felt the greenery with quiet reverence. 

Given the stop were a small one, geographically speaking and with the population limited as it was, Ayla encountered only a few others along the path. The Silver Wing anchored beyond seemed to suit any questions someone may have had on her origins, and she found she was able to avoid conversation by hiding in the shadow of her downturned face. Only one individual took a moment to address her directly, as she sat on the ground beside her box of scrap fabric. 

The man, she presumed he was a guild member taking a turn around the land for fresh air or as mobile lookout casting his eyes over the perimeter of the grounds, paused to inquire if the lady was alright. She only saw his boots and assumed a cheerful if gravely voice to reply that she was doing very well, just was taking a break from the ship to enjoy the grass and unmoving ground. He seemed satiated by her response, given how frequent it was for the unaccustomed to struggle with life at sea, and carried on his route back towards the lighthouse proper.