Death, who had discovered that a haircut and a shave in addition to the promise of a very thorough beat-em-up hockey game did wonders for his anger towards the sin and his general self-loathing, laughed and tapped his stick against the ice. "I'd be happy to." He said, grinning in Wrath's direction. It was good to see her looking embarassed and helpless, and Death couldn't help but appreciate The Garden. It was laughably named - he'd seen the real Garden in his day, but the building had a fantastically crude sense of humor, one that he and their young host god seemed to share, and Death rather appreciated it. "Dinner tonight, Mandy?" He called to her, and shook his head. It was impossible to not feel strong and healthy while amongst these charged and powerful gods of old and new.