[She doesn't answer that immediately, glancing Clint's way before she pulls a bottle of vodka out from under the bed and twists it open. Her lips roll between her teeth as she considers her answer.

What can she say?]

The last thing I remember is falling. Then I woke up here, in the infirmary, but fine.

[Is there more than that? She tries not to pick too much at that particular scab.]

Do you think we need glasses for this, or you good with the bottle?