He goes where she goes; that much is clear about where he stands. Even as the impending signs of a storm that would normally send him into solitude, he lifts himself and follows each footstep she takes. It makes him hate her even more, and for a brief second he allows himself to imagine her slipping on the water that is sure to come and tummbling down a hill. Of course, he can only imagine. In reality he is bound to the woman in a situation he has never been in before. From a boy with everything to his name, reduced to a thrall who does not even own his own life by any accord, the adjustment is a rocky one. But in the time he takes to fully emerge the warrior she moulds him to be, he allows himself to be Isengrim Cairn, son of the Leviathan. The Barracuda; if only just for a second. 

For now, he stalks quietly behind the woman, pausing when she pauses, and being her eyes when she is not looking. When he is not loathing her very existence, perhaps there is the slightest suggestion of fidelity in whatever twisted affection he holds for her, and at the back of his mind, recognises that without her, he can never become the man he needs to become. The man who will bring his family home once again and reclaim the abandoned land on the shore he was thrown off of. So, at every encounter does he tense, watching as the other approaches the Commander, and calulating each movement she makes in the presence of the Commander. Even if the other happens to be one of them, he does not trust. It goes beyond what is assigned to him and he knows it, the only reason he does is ultimately for his own benefit; the way it is and will always be.