"Sweetheart? Hmm, I like that," Prometheus said with clear amusement, ambling over to bump snouts with Hades affectionately. Behind him the Yol deposited his bison kill and were already shredding the meat into bite-sized chunks (for a dragon).

"How's the egg sitting going?" he purred, ducking his head to nose at Hades's chest, as if to try and peer under him. But, Hades was pancaking very efficiently, and not even the smallest inch of egg shell was exposed to the elements. Prometheus approved, "Is it comfortable to sit on?"