She comes out with two bags and a somewhat lost expression, locking the door behind her.

Lots of complicated emotions, there. Pradnakt reaches out with the Force, stopping just short of making contact.

The effect Pradnakt's presence in the Force has on Daira hasn't lessened with exposure; she completes the contact as if she couldn't imagine doing anything else.

There's awe there, again, and admiration, but below that a messy tangle of hope and apprehension, a lifetime running from even the hint of Sith fighting with the way Pradnakt had felt when she dropped her shields. Pradnakt is neither a broken droid nor the Force, and so Daira doesn't know what to do with her, though she wants so badly to trust the soaring notes of that Force-song that it almost hurts.

And from Pradnakt, reassurance, confidence, appreciation, and just a hint of protectiveness - she's charmed, by Daira, and considers her at least temporarily her own - her business, her problem, her responsibility.

"We're not in a hurry, beyond needing to get back. If you need a few days to figure things out, you'll have them."

Daira understands possessiveness as motive far better than almost anything else Pradnakt could have shown her, and the protection of a Sith Lord was no small thing.

"No, I - I'll be okay. Just -" She waves a hand in the air, gesturing at the confusion she'd shown Prandakt. "It'll sort itself out eventually."

"All right. There's no pressure, anyway. C'mon, Love," she calls to Daisy, shifting so that the droid can join her on the speeder.

Daira stows her bags, and then takes a few minutes to familiarize herself with the speeder's controls.

"Is it far?" she asks.

"Yeah, three days at a reasonable pace. I have provisions and stuff."

"Well. I'm ready, I guess."

"All right."

They head west, toward the fading light of the sun. Pradnakt leaves the connection up, but slightly muted; it doesn't seem to take a significant portion of her attention.

"Let me know when you need to stop," she calls, when they're out of the city.

"Will do."

Daira hasn't piloted a speeder in a while, but it comes back quickly, and after that most of her thoughts are taken up watching the connection, the changing landscape, and the way the Force moves through all of it together. 

She calls a halt when it's almost entirely dark, sending a wordless pulse of intent in lieu of yelling over the noise of the speeders.

Pradnakt sends an acknowledgement, and points to a rock formation a mile or so ahead. When they get there, she pulls off into it, stopping when she comes to a spot that's shielded from the road.

She turns the cooking supplies over to Daisy, and takes one of the bedrolls to set up.

Daira... isn't sure where she fits into this routine. She picks up the second bedroll and then stands awkwardly in Pradnakt's line of sight, hoping the question will be obvious.

She notices promptly. "There's room for two here, or you can set up over there if you want a little more space, it looks comfortable enough. I can help with the tarp when I'm done here, if you're not familiar."

On the whole, she prefers not to sleep within saber distance of a Sith Lord she's just met, for all that she knows a couple meter's extra distance wouldn't help her if the question of saber-distances came up at all. It's not that she thinks Pradnakt would do anything, exactly, but the habits of half a lifetime are hard to unlearn.

She sets up the tarp with quick efficiency and unrolls the bedroll over it.

Pradnakt's done, by then, and has moved on to telekinetically rearranging the rocks by the camp stove into a better seating area; two together, one a little ways off.

Daira moves towards the fire and - whatever she was going to do is cut off, suddenly, in favor of staring at Pradnakt's manipulation of the Force. Again. 

(She knows she's acting strange, but she can't help it, she's avoided even the incidental contact most residents of the Empire might have with Force users and the way the Force moves around Prandakt is nearly the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.)

Pradnakt doesn't seem to mind that she's acting oddly.

She gets the stones arranged how she wants them, sits, and calls a trio of little rocks to her hand, to fiddle with.

" - can you teach me?"

"Sure, come sit."

Daira hesitates visibly between the two remaining seats, sits in the further one, and then looks questioningly at Pradnakt.

"So," she says, levitating one of the pebbles over her open palm as a casual demonstration, "the first thing you need to do is to find your connection in the force to what you want to move. Meditating helps, and I'd usually start with that, but you're obviously very good at noticing them, and I think you'll be able to manage without it - your humming is similar, but in this case instead of letting the Force move you, you want it to move the object."

Connections, connections... Daira closes her eyes and sinks deeper and deeper into the Force around her, trying to find the notes in the song that mean this pebble, the one in front of her, and not anything else. Normally she'd just be listening for the melodies that make up the shape of the Force or the sharp discordant notes that meant danger, but now she grabs a single note and follows it, trying to shut out the way everything else sings around her.

When she opens her eyes, she can feel the threads connecting her to every single rock around them.

"Like that, yes. Your focus is a little wide, though, it looks like."

This rock, this one, right here, just one, this in front of me, this note, ignore everything else, thisonethisonethisone -

"It's - loud. Hard not to listen to everything, when I'm paying attention."