[it's like stepping into a cloud, only less wet. the underworld is a strange place, but the more she sees of it the more she realises that strangeness is not without its beauty. plenty of that, in fact.

her gaze is drawn like a magnet to the back of hades' head as he guides the way. it seeks out to map the width of his shoulders, the strage fluttering feeling in her belly from being around him. she barely even notices the architecture, fascinated as she is to discover a mole near his hairline; she barely even notices the new room, the presence of candles and the scent of food.

until he speaks.] Oh - yes. Please, thank you. [she darts her gaze away, afraid of having been caught oggling him rather brazenly, and studies the room where the king of the dead has his supper.]

You know, rumour has is above ground that if you eat or drink in the Underworld, it claims you.