Finally spotting someone who looked like they could be Madge, Finnick crossed the diner's main area, sliding casually into the booth across from her. (If it wasn't Madge, well, maybe this girl could use some company as well. He didn't particularly feel like eating alone.) Despite his perhaps obvious look of a newcomer to Storybrooke, Finnick still held himself tall, with pride, and offered a smile across the table.
"So what's good to eat, here?" Though, really, most anything would probably be good at the moment, considering his meals of late had all been in 13, which was hardly the peak of culinary delights in Panem.