This woman, Pro noted, had a firm grasp of the situation. He kept from speaking as the two female, gun-wielding occupants of the safehouse negotiated the immigration. His quieted panting slowed to a more comfortable level until he answered.
"I'm sure I'll have the breath, later," he offered. He said it quietly, and proceeded to listen to the voices in the desert outside. That he didn't recognize them said nothing, given there was an entire centuria searching for him in the immediate vicinity.
"How the fuck are we gonna find this cretin out here?"
"By looking. That is how we will find him, because Pompeius will keep us here until we do."
"This's way too close to NCR for a whole century to sit on its collective thumbs."
There was a pause at this, and the voice's audible proximity worried Pro. Even with his body wanting to steal the others' oxygen from the cave, he held his breath a moment. The door remained undisturbed.
"We're two days from that junk-heap statue. The Centurion will give it one more before we pack in, so we won't be getting any sleep tonight or tomorrow."
The other soldier's profanities trailed off, and the words became dull sounds again. Pro sighed his relief, and turned to the other two cave-dwellers. Slowly standing, he realized the cave didn't match his own height, before speaking quietly, with his palms open in an attempt to calm.
"Now, I think it would serve us all to move a bit further in, away from the door. And to put the guns down. You're both clearly slave-shuttlers, and we all need some shuttling now."