Jo's not delicate with her drink. Two hands go around it, and it goes straight to her mouth, eye closing for a sip and desperate prayer it's not as weird as its surroundings. This time — for the first time since arriving, in what feels like an endless crash and burn with the ground — she's rewarded. It's not top shelf, but then what they'd had back (once upon a time when she had a home) it'd been like this.

A little dark, a little rough, but with such a nice back alley burn because of it.

There were some words she was supposed to answer, but it was lost. All Inej gets for this second is a murmured mmph against the rim with a breath out her nose, as Jo's shoulders finally loosen a small half-notch lower.