Aphrodite paced the columns again, probably for the hundredth time. “Do you have any special talents?” She asked. Asyran folded his wiry sun-spotted arms, thinking. The agrarian god’s thinking face made Aphrodite think of a beast of burden chewing cud. He was neither ruggedly handsome like Herkules, nor suavely seductive […]
You may as well sidle up and warm your hands.