Moral to the Story

The water swirling around his chin was calming, and his eyes almost lulled close as he finally relaxed. It felt like he could lay there till the cold water made him numb to his very center. Numb was comfortable right now, numb meant not thinking so long about what he endured for these last seasons. A leaf fallen from the trees swirling past him caught his attention, lilac eyes following its tumbling patterns before it disappeared into the mist further down. His mind didn't have long to wander though, words shattering his small moment of peace. Idiot, he had let his guard down too long, as if others couldn't have been nearby. Then the vaguely familiar scent hit him, olives and thyme, with the vague underlay of another equally familiar scent of jasmine and vanilla.

"What I had to do, huh? No, even I’ll admit I did this out of spite. He had it coming for a long time." The words have a wobble to them at the end, an almost laugh, but not one of joy or humor, he had hated that brute. And as Ganymede heaved himself out of the cold water, coat dripping and the taken pelt sliding into the creek in a wet heap, he turned to face another brute of a different kind. Pale eyes took in the towering form with scrutiny, the way the demon prince stood a good distance away from him, taking note of the fact that the other had blown his cover early. Enough time to run, if he wanted, or it could be a trap of sorts. Ganymede was sorry to say that there was some part of him that truly hoped this wasn't a trap, that there weren't others creeping closer, it was the part that often tried to see the best in others. It was the part that was likely the reason he didn't run for the hills.

Taking a deep breath, shaking his shoulders slightly to try and force the tension from them, Ganymede stood up to his full height. Not a trace of fear in his posture as misty lavender met burning pyre eyes. "Now, I have nothing for you, so ill politely ask you why you’re here."

Walk, "Talk", Think