She looked at him with an impassive gaze, but it felt strange to have him acknowlege Nik with such familiarity. She had known, of course, that Nik had relatives, and that, like him, they were scattered to the winds. But it had still been strange when Nik had told her of who the newcomers were. And it was still strange to be seated across from one of them, sharing moonshine in the aftersmoke of a funeral pyre. For someone who had never really had a stable representation of 'normalcy', she found herself constantly needing to redefine the word.
She took the extended bottle and took her own cautious sip; the muscles in her face worked, but she had long ago schooled her 'yuck' face. "A long time," was her response, her fingers rapidly drumming the sides of the bottle as the liquor burned itself down her esophogus, leaving her warm and flush. "I was probably... 16 the first time I tried this stuff." She bit her lip to stifle a grin; Nik had warned her against it, and out of stupid teenage spite (or, perhaps more accurately, the strong desire to prove him wrong) she had proceeded to take several swigs in succession. "I was sick for days," she added, and leaned across to offer him another pull.
"He um... told me you two are cousins. Before he left." She knew Nik was a lot older than he looked, and so had to ask, "How long have you guys known about each other?"