Noa shakes her head, rolls the liquid that’s left in her glass around once before replying, “No, we ain’t.” She finishes the whiskey in one swallow and sets it aside. “Much as the hotheads would like retaliation, even they ain’t going to step out of line and face Rome.” He was the best stand in for Vic that they had, Noa was grateful for him. “I suspect they’ll still be a problem when we’re in a better spot.” It would be better for them if the cats kept away like they had been, the park really didn’t need another wrench thrown into their precarious planning.
“Thanks for letting me pick your brain, sweetheart.” Noa quirks a smile, it's not much, but she hopes it relays her appreciation to Marina. She grabs her empty glass and stands, setting it on the counter before she leans a hip against it. If she were wired differently she probably would have offered some kind of encouragement, but instead she only adds, “And the drink.”