Ali's not got any bottles in her hand, but a more observant (and less drunk) Samus might notice the proof of her own sorrow-drowning on her breath when she answers the door.
*Samus blinks, as though surprised by the question, then glances down at herself. There are places where her vacsuit is torn away or cut open, beyond its ability to reseal, and signs of other cuts and punctures that have closed over again.*
A little bit. How're you?
*As she asks, she holds out the bottle, inviting Ali to try some.*
"Better than you are." Ali will take the bottle, thanks, but mostly to keep it away from Samus. "Come in, we'll get you cleaned up and fed, and then you can tell me what happened."
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"Samus? ...Please tell me none of that is yours."
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A little bit. How're you?
*As she asks, she holds out the bottle, inviting Ali to try some.*
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*Coming inside, she glances around, hoping not to find any of the children about. She's sober enough to not want them to see her like this.*
That's pretty good. Stings a little going down, but has a nice afterbreath.
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