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Odysseus sighed heavily as his raft floated closer to Ithaca. He was so close. He had gone through Hell to get here, and he wasn’t going to let anything take him away from it.
His raft rocked a little, and Odysseus picked up his knife in a flash. Was it a creature? Just water? He wasn’t going to take any chances.
Then a head poked out of the water a few feet away from the raft.
Or,
An under appreciated god chats with Odysseus about morals and death.
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Bookmark Notes:
Triton watching Six Hundredth Strike from a safe and reasonable distance: … These two need therapy and it’s up to me I guess