Fruit that grows on a vine, not bad. You can spit the seeds at people.

[Erika flicks two pieces of bread into the toaster, sets it to get a nice golden brown toast. It's that fine line between crisp and firm and "oh shit I left it in a second too long and it's burnt fuck fuck fuck" that's so hard to find.]

You're not allergic to peanuts are you? Oh wait, hold on, this is bug butter, no peanuts. You're okay with bugs?

[Erika rattles as she moves around the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry. She tosses the jar of creamy bug butter up and down in her hand as she looks back at the other woman.]

So. Got a name? I'm Erika. No last name. Gonna have to figure one out.

[There's an affable tone in the way she talks, a smile more a smirk more a natural twist in resting position.]