While in some respects Adrestia and Aphrodite were similar - apples not falling far from the tree and all that - in the kitchen, the younger goddess could manage to put together a meal without burning down the house in the process. The meal laid out for her father was hardly haute cuisine, but it suited them both - simple, filling, tasty and lacking the frilly napkins and bevvy of flowers that would have kept them from trading dishes, beer and words across the wide table.
Venison chili simmering gently on the stove, Adrestia checked the bread and hooked a beer out of the snow piled in one side of the large farmer's sink, much closer to the table than the huge refrigerator that filled one corner of the kitchen. All that was left to do was wait on her father, and so she did - staring into the roaring fire and organizing her thoughts while she waited for the hair at the back of her neck to prickle, heralding his arrival.