None of it gets by her. Natasha's eyes narrow just a tad, probably even imperceptibly to people who don't know her at all. There's more than just his body type that's off, here. An illusion, maybe? Brought on by whatever it was that was still tethering them to the ship? She'd hope those had gone away once the ship had crashed itself, but apparently not. His commentary is telling, almost too much so, and she hides her disappointment well as she lifts a shoulder in a shrug, turning and beckoning for him to follow her. She'll play along with whatever the TQ wants to do to her, for now.

"On this planet? Two months, give or take. On the ship? I lost count after the third. The lack of a day night cycle starts to make the hours blur together." She kneels at the pack, back to her task of winding the rope in her hands.

"What's the last thing you remember?" She says it casually, but she's probing. Steve's one of the few, in fact, who gets the courtesy of knowing she's interrogating them. She's still working on being honest, so it's the least she can do.