Knowing your exits. It's important to figure out, and there's no point in hiding that hers is easily accessable.

"Bar treats me well," she says.

Another sip from the bottle, and then she moves over to him, holding it out to the side.

"Saw that blade downstairs," she murmurs, tilting her head. "That blood yours, or someone else's?"

She has a feeling she already knows the answer to that question.