Ava's mask of polite impassivity cracks for just an instant, her eyes narrowing for a beat (honestly, like she wouldn't think to ask for water in the canteen?) before she tilts her head and smiles.

"Erik," she calls out. It's a roundabout way of acknowledging Savitri's directions. "I'll be right back, hold on."

She leaves her shoes this time, rather than carry them down to the kitchen or have to fuss with removing them mid-jog, and back to the stairs she heads, descending, this time.