One thing no one would ever say about Cara Morrison was that she was too subtle. Livid that another night was being taken away from her, centered around Greer and a mystery no one seemed any closer to solving, she had started drinking immediately, harder stuff shortly afterwards, and was absolutely blasted not long after everyone had started celebrating. Her pupils were huge in her dark eyes as she found Rhia in the crowd, grasping her arm and greeting her with a smirk and a flutter of her eyelashes. She didn't know what she was supposed to be doing with this question, what information could possibly be dangling in front of her with it, what Rhiannon, of all people, could offer that would provide any clarity - she had certainly debated not doing as G had prompted out of spite (a signature Cara move). But, if only to somehow ease her own conscious, she was tugging the girl she had been pointed towards away from the person she had been with, not even acknowledging them. "Rhia," Cara crooned, her voice thick with her lack of sobriety, pouting at her friend. Former friend? Who could ever really keep track with Cara? "Come do a line with me. It's the perfect party for it."