Nott had spent the night out with the dear archer she'd met, he'd called himself Clint and had been quite friendly. She had delved into the world of Midgardian spirits, in particular she'd discovered one called vodka which seemed to come in a cornucopia of flavors. Nott had picked melon flavor, as in the realms she was familiar with, she had always been partial to melons of any sort. She was uncertain what sort of melon it was, in the picture on the bottle's label it was green and round, the shell of it was a paler green than it's fruit. She'd had quite a few bottles and did not entirely recall the number of them she'd drained on her own. Nott had dropped Clint off at his home before she'd headed back to Strange's home. She found herself sorting through his kitchen with a near fervor to find something that could ease the pounding in her skull; she believed the Midgardian's referred to this as a "hangover".