Flinging a red cowboy boot up to kick the door to the communal area of the inn open, it was fairly obvious that Lana was drunk from the way she whipped the end of her feather boa at a stranger’s face as soon as she’d entered. “Dusting out those nostrils! You’re welcome. Bat in the cave.” Making an effort to order her steps as much as possible, she looked a little like she was attempting to walk the plank, eyes concentrated on her feet until she bumped right into someone’s chest. Chin lifting, she let out an amused breath at the fact her balance had swayed. Something about not caring was liberating. “Co-llission! Sheesh, you’re like a boulder. Just... Like the ones, that crushed Mufasa. Or was... Maybe that was warthogs, and they trampled him, or something? Whatever,” came after her squint had lessened, eyeing their face. “Do you have anything to drink? Mine was... stolen. All of it. So sad, very sad. Police called.”
