She waits him out, the moments of silence - or of deep breathing, on his side - calming her in turn, then huffs a surprised laugh at his change of subject. The translation effect surprisingly manages to find an equivalent for 'scotch' in the language of Cocoon, so she nods.

"We had both, but the scotch tasted like Ooze. And you're welcome."

Past tense because honestly she has no idea whether the breweries survived the fall of Cocoon. No big loss, though. She glances up, hearing footsteps from the next car, and stands again. Probably his kid coming back. "I'm gonna go check out the rest of the train, but I'll be around."