The look she gave in response to the lifted blanket was probably a bit rude. Wide eyes stared, blatantly, for a moment before she accepted the invitation with a slow, forward, crawl. The blanket was more than welcome, and almost at once Ari settled herself into it, curling down against the mattress in a rather unceremonious flop.
"I never get sleepy." She replied. Which was, as of late, very true. She almost never slept much anymore, not since losing her Foster parents. Bad dreams, not that she'd ever admit it, tended to plague her unconscious thoughts. "This is much better." She commented, almost absently, letting her eyes flutter as the warmth chased away the cold.
When she heard Emma continue speaking, she hardly seemed to pay it much mind, until that word spilled from her lips. Mudblood. Ari shot up, lifting one hand, though poorly, to try and support her spinning head. Moving that fast was ill conceived. "It's an insult?" She seemed genuinely, drunkenly, perturbed, by this for a moment. Then, she seemed to shrug it all off at once.
"You should have asked me then." She replied firmly. Sure, there had been several boys, no doubt operating under the pretense that boys often would about a girl who would so willingly ingest so much drink, who'd asked her to dance. She just wasn't interested. Boys were...typical, boring, even here. She'd never met one she couldn't sum up in more than five words.