His thanks are spat in such a way that she rather wants to recoil from them, but she knows what it means for him to display even the slightest civility. She nods and forces a quick smile, not trusting herself to say you're welcome because she's not exactly sure that he is.

She doesn't linger, though she's not exactly sure where to go from here. Ideally, she'd like to go home- proper home- but that's impossible. Second best is her flat and her bed in Baedal, but that feels like admitting defeat; the other option is getting another drink, but that would involve heading in the same direction he's going, which is not an appealing idea at all. She sets course for the table she was previously sitting at instead, at least to wait for a little while before she can give up on the night entirely.

'Time is of the essence'. The words ring in her head. There's nothing she can do tonight, though. Tomorrow, she resolves to research, to plan, to get her head in order. Tonight, she feels wrung-out, and the prospect of launching into this project isn't an appealing one.

Dark Marks aren't the most festive of things, after all, and quite frankly she's just not feeling the Catenrat cheer.