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She listened to him repeat the names of the gods that interested him, as best as he could at least, the corner of her lip curling ever so slightly. You like him? Apollo? Maybe he just thought the name was funny. It had taken more effort than she cared to admit for her overstimulated ass to get him to stop repeating Cupid's.

He's also the god of art, poetry, music, medicine, and prophecy. He's said to be very beautiful, and that his children often grow up to be very famous artists, bards, and doctors. He's often accompanied by the Muses — nine goddess of science, art, music and literature that the people would pray to for success and inspiration — and delivers prophecies through the Oracle of Delphi.

One time... Bragi went on, watching his half-lidded eyes gradually lose their sparkle, and droop, slowly, trailing off when they closed. She listened for a minute, two, until the faintest little snore tickled the inner fur of her ear. Got 'em.

She gave a self-satisfied little smile and lowered her head to nose a bit of loose moss and bedding around his body like a nest, or a blanket. Then she turned her gaze back outside, listening as the rain gradually began to let up, and laid her head across her paws.

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