"Piece a' fucking shit," spat Mattie after the door shut behind Double-Fudge. She got out of bed and stood up, flexing her wings experimentally to see if they hurt. They ached a little, which was to be expected, but surprisingly seemed mostly unharmed. Funny. She'd thought at least one of them was bleeding when they'd landed. 

With that finished she rounded on Nick. "Why don't you tell me the [i]whole[/i] truth next time, huh, you dingleberry? Maybe if you'd been a little less fucking vague I wouldn't have tried to leave, and then you wouldn't have fucking––attacked me––like your savage-ass brother did three years ago! And then we wouldn't be [i]here![/i]" She paced as she spoke, feeling sick. "Oh, and, take the burgers. I don't want food he's touched or been within five feet of." 

She wanted to ask for every single thing he knew, but had conveniently forgotten in her anger. As usual. 

The window was still there if Double-Fudge had locked the door. She looked toward it. But maybe she should wait for Nick to fall asleep or something. Unless she wanted him to go after her again.