She arrived her with the belief nobody at all should count upon her. That she was selfish, opportunistic and had no reason to help anyone but herself, and has clung to the thought for so long that it's been difficult to give up. It's shifted more toward doubting her ability to do anything significant in protecting anyone from the inevitable, but at least she has the motivation now that she didn't before. Something to keep living for and fighting for.

It's terrifying in its own way to care about people. Because she doesn't want to so easily give this up. Ava stretches out her own legs and shifts her position to lay alongside Malcolm. There's enough room for them both, but only if she situates a few of her limbs over him, her body pressed to his side. Her heart beats rapidly, and she's sure he can feel it with how close she is.

"They're not," Ava insists quietly, though her gaze remains on his face rather than glancing up at the sky. "Not mine at least. There's not a single constellation I recognize. And I don't think the pirates have had much luck either," because she trusts they know the night sky more than anyone.