She turns her head to look at him, surprised.

“Yes,” she says immediately, anyway.

Okay he can—well, she's sitting down, so he sits, too, and hugs her.

Yvette leans into him, snuggling up and then clinging. Then she gives a little sniffle, and promptly starts crying onto the nearest available shoulder. ... The tears are black and fit her theme of starscapes.

He can't see them, as they're on his shoulder, but he would find this appropriately aesthetic. He has the instinct to pat her on the back, and the second instinct that this sounds kind of idiotic and he should just hug her.

Huuuuuugs! Hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs!

“The irony of a god trying to escape his home meeting a person trying to get home wasn’t obvious to me until now,” she sniffles. “I’d say trade you, but.”

"I don't think you would like my home very much," he says, ruefully.

“I also don’t think you’d actually like to cut yourself off from everyone you know without any ability to communicate or visit!” Sniff, sniff. “Thanatos would be heartbroken.”

"He has made his opinion about my leaving without telling him first very clear, yes."

“Oh, is that why he was so mad at you!” She snickers a little, then nuzzles into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. You must want out of here so badly.”

"It's been a couple of centuries. I suppose I'm stir crazy. I wonder how Father's direct employees aren't."

“Do they not get vacations, or is he just that bad of a boss?”

"...vacations?"

“I suppose that answers my question, doesn’t it. Uh, designated time for not working and just being able to. Go and do what you like. Travel, spend time with family, lock yourself in your house to not talk to anyone for a week. The use of it varies.”

"Er, no, no I do not think Father's employees have that."

Sigh. “Never mind, I want to swap so I can shove employee benefits and the benefits of not overworking your employees down your dad’s throat,” she deadpans.

"I'm sure the shades would appreciate it."

“And I bet Hades would have more employees to handle infrastructure problems if they got nice perks for working for him! Funny how that works.”

"Maybe!"

Snuuuuuggle. Even though she’s apparently cheered up a bit, she’s still very snuggly.

“Thanks,” she says, softly. Still leaning into him.

"No problem." He looks up ahead as the raft moves of its own accord. "There we go, Lethe."

And indeed, up ahead there is the view of a more distant river that seems to be made of clouds. Closer than that there is another shore which turns from Asphodel's parched land into green grass, with a large gold and iron gate serving as the only visible entrance to a spiked fence that seems to extend to both sides for miles.

"A river made of clouds. Huh. All right. .... Is it terrible that I want to eat that too, just out of curiosity?"

"When the dead drink from it, they forget. That's what it's for. I... don't know what happens to gods. Or to you."

“Oh. Well in that case, nevermind, I’m not touching it.”

"You can touch it, just don't drink from it. And here we are," he says just as the raft slows to stop at the shore.

“I meant more that I wouldn’t absorb it in any form,” she points out, wryly. Then she gives him a squeeze and disintegrates back to a starscape, returning to the skulls on his shoulder. “Shall we be off, then? Let’s go break the pretty place into pretty pieces.”