"No, it wasn't Barton," Carol replied and found herself annoyed he thought it was him. Of all the Avengers, Barton was probably the one that Carol got along with the best. She took half a moment to glare at him, "And don't talk that way about him. He's a pain in the ass, but he's also my friend." And Carol wasn't going to let anyone trash talk her friends like that. Even if Namor likely said far worse about other people. She hit the bag harder again, now that he was holding it, it was like she was punching him but not quite.
She stopped now and looked at him, "I'm not emotionally unstable." She didn't feel like punching the bag anymore. She stepped back and removed the boxing gloves, tossing them aside as she went to walk over to a mat to sit down and stretch. Her agitated movements in which she removed the tape from around her hands said otherwise, but she just didn't like that phrasing. It bothered her. Emotionally unstable. She was stable, dammit.
"You haven't seen me emotionally unstable," she provided, "if I were emotionally unstable, I'd be in the kitchen with three empty bottles of Jack around me." That was probably more "unhinged" but Carol tended not to be quite so technical in that respect. She dropped down and immediately started doing some push ups.
"But I guess you'd be the expert on emotionally unstable then, so what do I know?" she added.