Stomp. Stomp. Splash. Splash.
Did the Gods always have to make such a racket when they came down?
Styx huffed. They didn’t dare walk through her river but they made sure she knew they were displeased that they were forced to trudge down to the depth of the underworld because of a promise by Zeus. Kicking through the puddles. Shouting at the dead souls whining around them.
She wasn’t too happy about it either. They were a nightmare to work with. Zeus meant this privilege as a gift. A way for the Gods to pay their respect to her for saving them.
The chatter from the spirits in the river kept rising, their whispers like shrieks. Squealing in her ears enough to make them bleed.
Enough! Styx appeared from the mist, out to roast the creature that could set those under her control alight with excitement. Who did they think they were causing mayhem in her domain?
But no mere God stepped through her Kingdom tonight. Zeus stopped when he saw her. Same determined look when he had come to her to ask for her allegiance in the Titan War.
Now this could be interesting.