thoth
we spend all our time running for our lives, going nowhere
The very idea of the gods having more important things to do than help Dakota made Thoth pull a face. He’d lived with a goddess for the early years of his life and had had enough to do with the rest of them to know that their idea of important didn’t always tally with what ordinary people thought. Mallos, for example, would brush insignificant mortals off when they were in dire need of help because he preferred to play with his phone. Even the nicer ones, like Tsi and Zed, were bewildered by mortal concerns and hopelessly inefficient whenever they had to deal with a person in need.
“Don’t pray,” he grunted, “just turn up.”
That had usually worked for him, although being a demigod probably helped. If Dakota was prepared to admit her relationship to Aura (Thoth couldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to; he didn’t fancy it much these days) then she stood a reasonable chance of getting at least one of them to listen to her.
He shrugged with supreme disinterest at Dakota’s question about how Aura became the grim reaper, making a concerted effort not to let the idea spark his curiosity. Just exactly how did one… nope. He wasn’t interested. He didn’t care. Why should he care?
“She knows.” He replied abruptly, his sharpness and an accompanying scowl letting Dakota know precisely what he thought of this arrangement. “She works for her. And yeah,” he added in a slightly softer tone, “I’ve seen her.”
Dakota’s tone when she spoke of her mother was unusually critical. Not really sure what to make of that, Thoth was considering what to say next when the distant sound of footsteps and voices drifted to his ears on the windless night. He hissed quietly, grabbed Dakota by the shoulders and pulled both of them down so that they were concealed by one of the gravestones. Fortunately the fog would keep anyone from spotting them from a distance, but they couldn’t stay here. He’d be dragged off to the castle dungeons faster than you could say ‘sitting duck’ and Dakota, if she was caught with him, wouldn’t be in a much better position.
“Listen,” he breathed, trying to keep his voice low as possible and pausing between words to listen. The footsteps sounded like they were retreating, but it didn’t hurt to be too careful. “We can’t stay here. I can get you to Poppy’s house.” He hesitated, remembering her animosity towards his sister. Maybe she wouldn’t want to go to Poppy’s house. “…Or to the tavern, I guess. That’s where people stay when they have nowhere else to go.”