"Mako," she says, the word made hesitant by the stopping of her tongue before she could say Raleigh instead. "It has been almost a week."

She has never heard a name like his before, leading her to ponder its origin. Working among the employees of the Shatterdome, she had come to pick up a passing feel for international anthroponymy, but his name strikes her as vaguely latinated. She is not wholly sure what to make of that.

She is not wholly sure what to make of anything he is saying, rather. Three months is a stretch of time that seems utterly overwhelming to her. To be confined to this single city for three months, with no promise of when or if one will return home, if at all -

Her drink arrives. She knocks half of it back in one gulp, shutting her eyes against the pleasant burn of alcohol sliding down her throat.

This is not right.

This is not her.

She runs her thumb absently around the rim of the glass in neural indecision.

"I am not very used to this," she admits to her drink quietly.