She's got a few more sips from the bottle coursing through her system before Santana passes her the joint again, but she doesn't take a hit from it right away, keeping it pinched between her fingertips as she leans back, just far enough that her weight is still propped on one elbow, her position relaxed as she settles back more comfortably. It speaks volumes to the power of the weed, anyway, that she's able to relax this much, at least for this long, without keeping some kind of warning bell ready in the back of her mind, just in case of danger. Maybe it also says something about the company she's keeping, too, but she doesn't want to overthink any of that right now. "Never heard of it, so no need to be sorry. Kansas, for me. Hence the name. After that, it was sort of all over. I was in California before I wound up here."