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There were a few things that had Na'ima very concerned. One, her village. They were not afraid of her. She could make it happen, she could make them afraid. But one child mentioning her to an adult had been waved off as nonsense, and the onslaught of illness..none of them thought anything of it. She had been too lax, been gone too long. They had forgotten her.

Someone needed to die. Who better to ask to kill someone than a Death horseman? And who better than her favorite?

And then there was the matter of said favorite. The way he had looked upon Negui's foal actually had her jealous. He had never gazed at her in such a way, smiling like a fool and unable to take his eyes off her for even a second. Why did the foal get that but not her? That wasn't fair. She wanted that.

And then there was the matter of his attire. There was nothing wrong with it..but among the horsemen of Famine he had stuck out like a sore thumb. Wrath had Famine in his blood. He deserved to look the part.

It was for this reason she had actually taken the time and effort to carry a large, large bag with her all the up the stairs from the Famine level to the Death quarters, even carrying it all the way to his door before giving it a knock with her knee. "My Death," she called, waiting patiently. "If you could let me in. My hands are full." Hopefully he was in. She leaned forward to press her ear to the door and listen.

The thud was enough for her. She stepped back to wait, beginning to hum quietly as Wrath went about whatever business he needed to take care of before he opened the door. It was worth it, really. The mare looked upon him with a lidded gaze, golden eyes giving him a quick glance down and up before settling on his face with a warm smile. "Hello," she greeted him as she stepped past him to walk inside.

Her slippers were kicked off neatly by the door so she could feel the soft fur under her feet as she walked, moving across to his dining area so she could lug up the heavy bag and set it down. She pulled her veils away from her face to reveal it for the stallion approaching her, turning to face him with her back against the table. As he spoke she chuckled, reaching her arms up as he reached down for her and standing on her toes to return the kiss. She playfully dragged her nails down his chest, tracing his tattoos and the lines of his muscles, and leaned fully into the kiss until she finally parted it with a smile. "I finished my gift for you," she answered his earlier question. "And I had an idea that perhaps..after you see it, you would like to join me on a short trip?" Wherever her plan was to take him it seemed to be one that had her excited just thinking about it.

Her smile widened into a grin as one hand reached up to trace one of his horns with delicate fingers. "I think you will like it. Go ahead." Her hand fell away as she took a slight step to the side, giving his arm a tug to guide him closer to the table. "Open it~." There was even a bounce on her toes as she waited for him to get to it.

The bag was less of a bag and more a very, very large section of cloth with the corners tied. And the bundle within seemed to be large. It was easy enough to untie, and once it was it collapsed to reveal its contents. First there was a box, an ornately carved one with what looked to be swirls of smoke engraved into the wood. The box sat atop a pile of clothes. Scarves, a robe, everything. Even shoes. It was all warm and rich, colored and designed in ways that complimented some of Na'ima's own usual attire. Each piece was hand made, intricately designed with stitching and dyes, even painted on artwork. It was eclectic, it was bright, it was everything that just screamed 'Famine'. However if one looked carefully many of the designs seemed to share a common theme, each piece had a scorpion hidden somewhere.

Bright golden eyes looked up expectantly, eager to hear and see what Wrath thought of her gift.