Patrick was shaking when Famine reached him, though it wasn't from the cold. He rose the moment he saw her, and moved to hug her tightly, despite the smell.
He was fairly sure she'd smelled worse.
"Thank you," he whispered against her shoulder. "Can we go somewhere? A hotel maybe? I can clean up." Thank goodness Wrath thought of clothes or he would be cleaning up only to put back on filthy rags. He was fairly sure whatever he had been doing, he had been wearing the same clothes for a month.