As a rule, Famine was not the sort of person to engage in 'girl' talk. She wasn't even really a girl in the truest sense. But Wrath had asked to her to come out, and she didn't want to deal with either the cursing or the brawl that might result from a refusal. So off she went.
She'd even put on clean jeans for the occasion, but that was about the only concession she made to the fact she was going somewhere that wasn't her kitchen. When she arrived, she ordered a dark German stout and took it over to where Wrath was sitting, sliding into the chair across from her. "Hey," she greeted, with an upward tilt of her chin.