It is soon after Hades finishes his third glass when Hythlodaeus’s Tropius lands in the garden with a thud and an indignant out crying of hundreds of displaced cutiefly.
Hythlodaeus calls out a “We’re home!” as if that wasn’t already so abundantly clear.
He leads Elidibus in as Tropius squeezes his body into the living room, trailing behind in clear want of treats. Hythlodaeus rubs him under the chin, noticing that the bananas were finally growing back in properly. Hopefully they would stay that way.
Once they are all in the same room, he looks between them and smiles. He almost feels bad about his part in all of it, but not really. He has no difficult feelings about his choices, though he knows that in and of itself is what most others find difficult with him.
“...Oh! Do I smell moussaka?”
Tropius gets ahead of Hythlodaeus, setting his head on the table and looking up at Hades with big, watery eyes.
no subject
It is soon after Hades finishes his third glass when Hythlodaeus’s Tropius lands in the garden with a thud and an indignant out crying of hundreds of displaced cutiefly.
Hythlodaeus calls out a “We’re home!” as if that wasn’t already so abundantly clear.
He leads Elidibus in as Tropius squeezes his body into the living room, trailing behind in clear want of treats. Hythlodaeus rubs him under the chin, noticing that the bananas were finally growing back in properly. Hopefully they would stay that way.
Once they are all in the same room, he looks between them and smiles. He almost feels bad about his part in all of it, but not really. He has no difficult feelings about his choices, though he knows that in and of itself is what most others find difficult with him.
“...Oh! Do I smell moussaka?”
Tropius gets ahead of Hythlodaeus, setting his head on the table and looking up at Hades with big, watery eyes.