Bayard is not the tyrannical brute Orhan is so eager to believe him to be. It would be a likely assumption, and the truth is, Arcana was afraid to ask Bayard's permission to leave. Though this is not because she feared his wrath. She feared his kindness. If he had outright told her "no", Arcana would have felt obligated to obey merely because of his malevolent leadership. Arcana would never wish to deliberately take advantage of a great leader like Bayard. She felt compelled to follow Orhan for reasons only a filly's heart would know, so she thought she would just slip out without asking. Technically, he never told her it was against the rules, so if confronted, she could feign ignorance, but this is still dishonest. It's a terrible, sneaky thing to do, and it's something so far out of character for Arcana. The delayed realization of this has Arcana's heart racing in her chest, and it's not just the heat of the desert that draws sweat from her pores.

Actually, the sinking sun sets a fresh coolness on the breeze that almost chills her bones. The two-toned filly is racked with an unexpected shiver, but her eyes remain locked on Orhan's. Butterflies take one last flight in her belly before she averts her eyes, and agrees with hushed tone, "Yeah. That would be good." She looks towards the horizon that would take her home but Orhan's voice draws her attention back. Her heart is somehow thumping in her throat without any knowledge, on Arcana's part, of how it got there. "Of-of course.", she chokes out, feeling suddenly weak in the knees. One last look at the fine features of his handsome face ends on a parting note. The filly turns then, to begin her journey home.