A shift happens when the evaluation process abruptly reaches a conclusion. Irahl had been doggedly focused in, navigating moment-to-moment, following where his excitement and instinct has led him. And like a dog following a trail, he hasn't realized how deep into the woods he'd run until he actually stops to look around.

Potentially big moves have been made, following a day that has been nothing but big moves. Not only does he not know how far from home he is--both figuratively and literally--he might be going even farther.

Irahl finds himself suddenly at the precipice of a commitment, and he balks. He tries to keep a tight rein on what he shows externally as he takes a moment to think, and think hard.

"...I don't know how anything works here." He'll start with an admission and work backwards toward an answer. "Back home, I was an independent contract. Brought in for specialized hunts or tasks, and on-call for critical emergencies."

His mind spins as he tries to figure out how to express both all of his eagerness and all of his reservations. After what he'd gone through in his own city, he doesn't want to stumble into what might be--for all he knows--an even tighter grip around his freedom.

"I'm not a soldier. I want to get back to hunting, I want to work, I want to keep my gear... but I'm done with being owned."

His tone is clear and sure on this, but his shrug under the heavy weight of gear bag is a helpless one. He doesn't know if what he's describing is even possible in this alien situation that he has found himself in, or if he'll get in trouble for even saying it. He knows he's in no position to bargain here, but for once, he has to at least try and make his desires known while there is a small window for it.

"Whatever that means here, I'm game for."