He can only indulge her so much. Trying to keep that familiar air about them, to stave off the possibly inevitable change he may go through, he’d done just that. Let her have that little win. But then it gets to the point of distracting.

Inane thoughts about figurines and models creep into his head and he shakes it slowly with a muted growl. The pinching of his skin around the edge of the mask is alarming, and yet he’s not willing to reach up and touch it, to affirm that it’s doing what it’s doing. He knows he’s changing, There’s no stopping it. When the time comes, he’ll have to disappear, but until he can finish helping Sombra figure something concrete out of this entire mess? He’ll stick close.

So yes, his steps do have more urgency in them after he’d spared a glance at the map.