Mt Etna

[aphros_born]

The goddess is sitting, cross-legged, in a patch of shifting sunshine that creates ever-changing highlights of liquid gold in her (flame) red hair. The afore-mentioned hair falls past her face, as her head is bent forward in concentration on something she holds between her slender, talented fingers. Not talented for this sort of work, though. A

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[forge_fire]

He's still working on the spoon-snake, a little treat for himself really as the creatures become his very own companion. The snake himself, however, is impatient and doesn't seem to understand why he's being covered in flecks of emerald and gold and obsidian. Heph, however, has got him soothed well enough that he's more than half done doing just that.

He sits in the outer area of the workshop, the inner sections closest to the magma flows where he works in the forge. This part looks more like a tinkers shop.

[aphros_born]

Aphrodite enters the forge cautiously, soft little feet tracing a careful path around the implements and benches and accoutrements of her husbands trade. Her gaze pauses curiously at various half-finished projects, but really, she has eyes only for Hephaestos. She pauses, before she is really in his line of sight, just to watch him work, bow-lips curving fondly.

[forge_fire]

He notices her.

He can't not notice her, as her presence brings a freshness to the air of the room, a faintly sweet smell that has him breathing in deeper and tempting his eyes to close. He looks up from his work, one hand smoothing down the back of the snake to make sure he doesn't slither up around Hephaestos' arm, before giving her a warm smile.

[aphros_born]

"Hello," she says, voice roughened a little as always but her eyes full of more than just lust - need, rather, and for all of him. She's nervous, though, here in this place which is his, and she shoves her hands into her pockets to save from doing anything less decorous, like twisting her fingers together. Or reaching out for him.