Rem started digging in as soon as a bowl and spoon was placed in front of him, and he could swear to whatever deity possible he had flash backs of home right then and there. In that way, Rem's favorite comfort food was just a little sad. No werwolf older then a few Presidential elections didn't have some sort of regrets. Rem wasn't an exception any more then he was exceptional in that regard either. Hell, he might have been the least troubled one in the house, and he had issues.<br/><br/>"Maybe I would cook more, if you'd be a damn sight more grateful,"he muttered. He didn't exactly have a lot of points to argue with though, he was a dick, and you just didn't comment to heavily on another werewolf's fighting skills. It was just about the only thing he was good at other then cooking, and saying he was 'all right' at a fist fight probably would start one.<br/><br/>"Anrista, right?" Rem said, "how do you like it?" he said it casually, as if it wasn't a big deal, but secretly he was really interested as to what she thought. It would be nice for another appreciative mouth to drown out Micky's bad one.