Jackdaw watched Ryder begin to tear the scrap heap apart, leaning back against the dirt mound for a few scarce moments of rest. She wasn't used to being so drained, and so fast; her skin felt like it was covered by a layer of wet salt, she could feel the dirt sticking to the back of her neck, and tumbling down the false-skin. By the time Rennac had made his way down the hill, she'd caught her breath, and took a vulture like position around the heap, scouring with her eyes for any sign of the captain. 

When Rennac made his remark, her only response was a furrowing of the brows before her helmet reformed around her head and clicked itself shut. Heat be damned, she wasn't going to take up any more time.