@gyllentanne; “ what? no witty remark? nothing clever to say? ”
Laughter and belittling was honestly the expected response, but it still caused the Greek's now ferine ears to turn downwards in disappointment to the other. Sure he himself would even crack inappropriate jokes in the worst of times, but, sass from elsewhere at his own expense wasn't helping him to ease any. The way Heimdall grinned to himself, proudly snarking tall over the god whom was now on all fours, it was like a blade in the side of Hermes' ego.
It was true that such a form wasn't ideal to say the least words of self pity. There was very seldom an occasion where taking on this particular appearance was necessary, so much to the point that the messenger god would forget that he even had the ability, even when his fellow Olympians displayed their own. But desperate times did call for desperate measures... as it was often put by the ambitious. A simple disguise of robes or a mask were more than enough to fool mortals. Gods however could see easily past a dark cloak. This was unfortunately the best shot they had.
He steadied his balance upon his cloven hooves (an act still so bizarre no matter how many times he might utilize this body) and turned his head just so that he could eye down the Aesir with his slit pupils.
Even in an alternate form communication was possible, it just felt so uncivilized to do so. The beneficial grace of Heimdall being able to see his intended feelings would have been helpful, but, the now quadrapeded messenger knew that all that could truly be seen was his own humiliation.
Hermes opened his mouth and bleated, literally. He knew that the true words would be fully translated once they reached the ears of whom he was directly speaking to; a silly but necessary way of speaking when using this primitive body. Had anyone else heard, it would only be registered as any other simple sheep's call.
《Halt your effrontery. Can you think of a better solution? I'd be happy to hear it.》
