Era shifts, accommodating his change in positioning, and resumes stroking her fingers through his hair. She hums a soft, sad note of acknowledgement. To her, who sees even a decade as a vast expanse of time, it is hard to truly comprehend the fleeting nature of a mortal's lifespan though she does make an effort to try. What if she remained the same as she was, while those she loves all wither and die? An endless cycle of love and loss, turning so quickly the two blur together.

She tries to imagine losing Haurchefant again and again. One a moon. Once a sennight. Once a day.

Era exhales, shaky and slow, and resumes her task of stroking Hades' soft hair.

"...I think I've a better idea now," she murmurs. "Of just why so many tales speak of immortality as a curse."