Moving out of the Compound, in a way, would be like admitting defeat. Her ego already took enough of a hit when she finally resigned herself to leaving the crash room, but she's too stubborn to lie down yet. "How's things with that guy, by the way?" asks Santana, if only to fill the silence as they walk, not actually interested but fond enough of Wichita to pretend. Actually, a part of her may be the slightest bit jealous, but it's a part buried deep and away, where even her conscious mind can't reach it.