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Summary
Hermes stops, the worn thin string of his patience snapping. “Excuse me, dear brother? Would you like to repeat that?” He asks as he turns to face Ares once more, seething, face burning red in anger. Ares looks taken aback for only a moment before responding.
“I simply mean, Hermes, that I have a hard time understanding what it is that has you so tired. Is being a herald really so difficult that you must interrupt father whilst he speaks?” He says, folding his arms and staring at Hermes with a look of superiority.
“I am more than just a herald," Hermes says through grinding teeth. "I bring souls to the Underworld! I grant protection to travelers and merchants! I fly to the ends of the Earth and back to deliver messages for you all - for you, so your wars can happen, Ares.”