He scowls after her, but-- Starting a fight is pointless, and wherever she's leading him, it... doesn't really matter. It stopped mattering the moment he trusted her against his instincts.

He'll deal with it when they get there.

That doesn't mean he has to like her or whatever she's doing. He follows her in icy silence. It's better this way anyway; familiar, almost comfortingly so. This unsteady ground is what he's used to.