Natasha nodded. "And you thought I might have been from when you were still trying to kill me and my friends." A fair worry. Natasha's hair is different, darker, longer. In a moment of reflexive worry, though, she could understand not focusing on anything more in depth than the recognition. Wanda's skillset is worlds away from her own. Why bother learning to read people when you can just read them?

"I've got a place to sleep. I stayed in one of the empty houses last night. It was fine." Just in case she ends up staying in the mill again, she'd really rather Clint be the only one who knows.