@thotyspeeds continued from x
As much as Pan had inherited his social skills from his father, right now Pan didn’t actually know how he could reword his thoughts to sound like anything other than what they were. Hermes asked if he seemed content, but even from Pan’s initial question the answer was no. The stress could practically be seen radiating from him.
Walking with the god, Pan twirled a coin between the fingers of one hand as thought of how to answer. But by the time he thought of something, Hermes was already explaining himself.
Being a psychopomp to the dead was definitely a job Pan would never want. It sounded depressing and busy. There was always dead people, sometimes there were lots of them. A never ending job. How did Hermes even end up doing that? Pan’s best guess was a lost bet or pulling straws like Hades, Zeus and Poseidon all did.
“Then why don’t you just quit? Find something else you’d rather do.”
When Pan had grown tired of Olympus, that’s exactly what he’d done. He’d left and started up a new life in the wilderness here. He really was happy.