Ari gratefully accepted Altair's coffee - she had brought her own, but his was better - and begun fussing with water and grounds and mugs. Coffee was one of the few things she could manage to make on her own; without it, she thought she surely might have died by now. Between the time Wil left and Drake returned, she had it brewed strong and poured into tin mugs - more foresight, and Drake should thank her, though she realized only now that she hadn't thought to bring anything as sensible as plates or utensils, only the mugs - and was passing it around. "It could be worse, I suppose," she agreed with the men. She could not truly stay ill-tempered for long, and right this moment she was warm, dry, sitting down, and had coffee.
When Drake appeared, muddy and in ripped clothing, she had to roll her eyes. "A little bunny did that to you?" she asked him incredulously. "I was going to offer you coffee, but I hope you'll get clean before coming over here." Not that anything was going to stay entirely clean out here, she suspected, but it couldn't hurt to try. She pointedly ignored the rumble in the distance, because she refused to think of the misery of sleeping on the ground in the rain. "Not that I don't enjoy how you look without a shirt," she teased.