Natasha hears Ghost tell Blaze to give him a minute while he does his scans. The break is giving her a moment to catch her breath. Every ragged inhale stabbing needles of cold into her lungs but she doesn't care. It's a break she's needed after the toil of making it this far. The spy falls into step behind Blaze.

Her gaze sweeps the trees surrounding them. The tracks and lack thereof. The branches above them for invisible assailants who would only be noticed by the flicker of their movement--and lands on the crow watching them.

Dry lips part in a moment of shock before she inhales sharply and glowers as hard as she can back at the bird. There has to be a way. There has to be another way. Will Reynard let them go back with their prize? He's already assaulted one of the convoy. Her gaze strays from the crow to the direction of the others. None of them are dead, so far as she knows. They've trained for this.

They have a literal god on their side, with Sif joining in the fray. The odds are as much in their favor as they can be.

Natasha looks back at the Exo and her Ghost. The Little Light who holds the keys to Blaze's immortality. Her exhale shudders. If they ask, she'll blame it on the cold.