Thea gave a sort snort at his comment, looking up at him for a few seconds before returning her attention back to the knife. "Funny. Guess people'll do some crazy things when they're tired and dehydrated. And about to sign themselves off for slaughter." She gave another short laugh. This was one reason she didn't understand people. Under no circumstance would she be lip-locking under the such high risk and importance. A ton of other pointless and stupid things, yes, but definitely nothing like that.<br/><br/>As the two walked back into the room, she smirked, closing the knife one last time before placing it back in her bag. "That was one quick session," She commented under her breath, her eyes, currently a mild hazel, following them as she expertly hid her smirk behind a cough. As they sat down, she threw a jokingly suspicious glance at the absent minded one--Dan, wasn't it?--before turning back to the conversation.<br/><br/>"Well, I'm certainly not going to drag my ass back home. You have my consent." She replied, as if her answer should be obvious. His little "if you have family" thing had put her a bit on edge though. He'd probably read all about her in that file of his. The thought made her a bit uncomfortable. She preferred to keep a lot of things under wraps, A) because she hated conversation about those specific things (ranging from "WOAH! YOU'RE SYNESTHETIC? WHAT COLOR IS MY VOICE?" to "Woah, man, so your parents seem pretty badass. Sorry about their, you know, execution and all."). B) Because she hated talking about herself. Maybe some part of her still blamed herself for her parent's death, no matter how unreasonable, or maybe she just felt like she couldn't live up to the standards that had been set for her. Who even knows. Thoughts like this are why she tended to stray from filling people in on her entire life story.