Ms Weber was funny. Or maybe, everything was? Or maybe the best judge of humor wasn't the girl who'd just lost a fight with a door? Whatever— Lyra snorted which oh, dear god, did nothing to stop the flow of blood, which did a lot to bring her round to the younger woman's suggestion. Yeah she definitely needed a sec. Needed a big ol breather. Needed a lil kindness and four ordinary walls round her while she tried to get her head in order.
"Yeah, yeah that's real nice of you, thank you, ma'am," Lyra gave her a smile, and though her mouth was mostly hidden by her hand and the bloody handkerchief, the smile still warmed up her eyes.
She pulled herself to her feet, steady enough. You didn't work at the heights she worked without having an innate kind of steadiness, even after being bashed in the face, though that didn't mean she wasn't really keen on sitting down in a minute. Not before she reached down and scooped her binder off the ground, though, with the hand that wasn’t holding the hanky to her nose. The spine was a little grazed, her thumb smeared a little blood cross the cover, and that nearly set her off laughing in ridiculousness again; trust her not to keep anything neat and new for a second.