Wanda's expression grew dark and she unconsciously reached a hand behind her to touch her back in a particular spot. "You don't want to be a prisoner of my father's especially," she said quietly, flatly. If the man could inflict the tortures he had upon his own children, she'd hate to see what he'd do to a human like Clint, an Avenger, one of those filthy lowly traitors his children had defected to. He'd had no qualms with destroying the Avengers tower, their home, trying to bring it down with people the Avengers cared for still inside. He'd tried to do the same at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters ages ago and the same with the helicarrier. Magneto didn't care about human life and he had a particular qualm with the Avengers.
Clint's instruction shook her from her unhappy memories and she reached out a hand to him, her fingertips glowing. She offered him the smallest smile. "I'll do my best not to put us in the middle of a horde this time," she promised and then, added, "And no cats either." Before he could make an objection she grasped his fingers and they disappeared in a wink of red light to reappear for a few seconds in a strange place, then another, and another but each jump brought them to a thankfully deserted place and they landed down on the beach below the manor in one piece.
"Be still," Wanda murmured, not dropping his hand. The midday sun beat overhead and Wanda looked around, scanning for guards. This beach had always been one of the more secluded and serene spots on the island and today was no exception. Which was actually incredibly suspicious and, sure enough, a lone figure rounded a corner but Wanda spotted it before it spotted them. She dropped Clint's hand so he could get to his bow. "Try not to-" she began in a sudden moment of guilt, and shook her head, "Not everyone here is like my father."