[ she can't necessarily decide this soon if she should trust the woman, but the need for a seat takes priority over all else as she feels the wobbling sensations along her legs, unsteady as if they hadn't quite been working properly for quite a few months.

(is that how long she'd been out — ?)

shuffling her feet across the floor, trying to avoid tripping in her newly given flip flops, she slides onto one of the stools, gripping her finger along the counter's edge to regain her sense of balance. ]

Thank you. [ she responds quietly but politely, giving a light nod as she gradually lifts her head to look at the woman. ]

I think so, it's just — it's a bit like when you wake up after sleeping for so long and your throat feels like a raspy desert. I might have just ... overslept.