"...My pick of where? I've just seen where I woke up mostly. What else is there?" Aloy's brow furrows. She's still in alert mode, eyes moving from Clint to scan the room for anyone (or anything) else for a brief moment. Something could come at her. She needed to be prepared.

"A range? For targets and practicing your archery?" That's something she understands. Clint gets a flash of a young girl, barely 7, maybe younger. A small bow in her hands. A large man (larger in her memory) who is broad and bearded and shows her to make the bow, to string it, to fire it without thought.

"That sounds useful." The first normal thing she's heard since she got here.