"Yeah, well, who died an' made you the boss," she muttered, bringing her arms to a cross over her chest. The sarcastic remark was let fly without conscious thought, but she decided to humor him. This once. Again, he was doing nothing to invoke her particular brand of treatment, but old habits died hard. She was certainly squirming on the inside for every comment that was made, mostly because of his simple aura that demanded her to simply pony up the answers to his questions.
"Me an' Rylee. Dunno if yah've met him, but he was the one tah help me out that night. Much as he could." She took a moment to pause, unsure if she should continue, but the cat was out of the bag at this point. If this guy went and started bothering Rylee for more information, well, then Rylee could come yell at her. Charlie knew Rylee deserved to yell at her for more than just telling a complete stranger about the weird shit that had gone on that night.
"I was havin' the...crap hearin' issues," she explained, waving a hand by her ear again, the gesticulation natural, "an' he had a burn. Real nasty one, real bad. Neither of us were in any shape to get to a hospital... But the next mornin', he was fine. Like nothin' fuckin' happened. At all." She gave a shrug to indicate her confusion. "Me, my ears still weren't workin', but by the end of the day, they were fine. What you said...twenty-four hours of that shit.
"But see, that's you with the seein' shit, me with the hearin' shit, and Ry with the burn; even knowin' all of that, none of it makes any fuckin' sense."