It might not be the best opening, but it earns her a soft, tearful laugh, although she can’t quite bring herself to look up. Not yet. “We’re going to need to restock, at this rate.” Between the three of them, their wine cellar is going to deplete at a rapidly advanced rate. Hawke’s offer is... complicated in its answer. She does. She doesn’t. She wants nothing more to wallow in her sorrow alone. She wants nothing more than to have company so she’s not alone. It’s conflicting desires and it’s chance (no it’s not) that she chooses the latter. “No. It’s fine. I don’t... I don’t mind.”

She swallows a sob, breathes it out silently. “But I’m afraid I’m not in the best state.” As though the other woman isn’t bloody aware of her state. But a warning seems only fair.