A young Hades had just came back from the hunt. When he felt something on his cheeks, he slowly rubbed the trace of blood away from his face, and suddenly snapped his neck backward at a tree.
Raising his eyebrows, he stared at the tree for a few moments, as if daring it to do something but then as if bored or perhaps even thinking of it as pointless, he turned his face away, continuing the drag a man by his head and brought him to the prison dungeon with an expressionless face.
Gulping, Crius watched his fist that was dripping with the crimson liquid. He shifted uncomfortably on the tree and turned to Deimos, muttering, "Did you see that? He... looks so scary."
Deimos scoffed, "Scary? What part? He looks just like any other boy of our age."
