Hushed Willows eyes on the road.

There were no emotions that played against her nerves— she was still and calm as ever. The only thing she would admit to being was curious— intrigued even. Natasha was patient, but she did not have to wait long. The dark figure that she remembered well enough soon appeared, holding himself like some sort of arrogant God— which was to be expected from Stark himself. His posture was more than just arrogance, however, which led her to believe that this was his home, his territory. 

Her posture loosens slightly, no longer worried about dealing with a territorial stranger. Still politely aware of his position, she keeps her tail lower than his and stays away from his gaze— she has no quarrel with him. 

"You can't keep me away," she says, her voice deep with only the slightest twinge of an accent. Her gaze wanders past him, seeming almost uninterested in him, and studying the territory behind him. "You've surprised me, Stark. I didn't ever pin you for a homebody," she tells him, her gaze falling back onto his dark figure.