She'll leave them to their conversation, hving no opinion either way. Ariadne knows well enough that she's not a child, she's not really all that innocent, and now she's even less innocen through no fault of her own. She wishes that Arthur were there - he would know what to tell her at that point; he's killed before, if even just in dreams. She doesn't ask those sorts of questions, but she can tell.

She merely takes a sitting position at the wall, shrugging her bag into her lap as she carefully goes through it. Knowing that she's leaving after a few more hours, her priority is now to keep her spoils to herself, hidden. A coat, some dried fruits, some matches. Not bad, and she imagines the coat will come in handy.