2B has not removed the hand over her chest from the moment she found the mind to sit rather than stand. She has made no preparations (she doesn't exactly need to, what was there to bring beyond herself?). The android feels the beat beneath her palm like . . . Something trying to talk to her. Her attention snaps upward when Woe does, and that very beating jumps to the point that 2B stands.

She does not want to leave, but she was not made to disobey an order. She wants— she has more wants than she's ever realized, and none of them have an inkling to do with departure. The more she questions it herself, the more 2B doesn't know what Woe is to her. A human she should protect. A woman she shouldn't leave. An ally. A formidable caster that has put a spell within her and kept her alive.

Scratched and torn skin is repairing itself— slowly. She is less of a mannequin, but not yet at her standard appearance. She can blink her eyes just enough to consider them a blink— these pale, sea blue orbs that bare so many questions and too many directions to speak them.

"— I want to know what happened."

But there is not a lick of anger in her voice to listen to it. She wants to know. She is both awed and conffused. It's the first want she could perhaps successfully have.