Like in Kung Fu. [narrative/open]
There were two things that Lethe had concluded from her decision to "walk the earth" - an idea she'd gotten from a movie she'd long ago decided was one of the best things to come out of America, ever.
One was that walking was somewhat overrated.
There was the whole concept that the physical act of walking afforded one the opportunity to ruminate really effectively - walking by yourself gave you nothing but time and space to unpack thoughts, emotions, feelings, and all those icky-sticky intangibles that seemed to give so many people so much trouble. Gave one a breath of fresh air and all that.
The problem with this element of walking's benefits was that Lethe was, at the core of her, her river. She only ever bled red for appearances' sake - what she was inside was the silver essence of everything that was ever lost, stolen, or damaged in the head; everything buried in the subconscious was actually drowned in her. Which meant that she had a reasonably good handle both on her own sense of self-awareness, and on how things moved in her world. Liquid was always moving, she was always aware of what was at her depths, and if anything, this knowledge, and submerging herself in it, only had the tendency to drive her a bit nuts when she tried to wrap the approximation of her consciousness that her corporeal form produced around it.
She wasn't one for obliterating her every faculty, but sometimes she thought that her more inebriated siblings might have the right idea.
The second thing - related to the first - was that walking could be very tedious.
She hadn't really noticed it before, but there were vast, immense, seemingly immeasurable stretches of dull, oppressive, and irritating between her favorite spots in the mortal realm. Lethe, who liked to be thorough, and could hardly be accused of having a short attention span, decided, in spite of her instincts, to give the walking thing a fair shot before giving up entirely. But after a few months, she felt that she'd seen enough for now. The fact was, she'd decided, that deities didn't need walkabouts. Humans needed spiritual journeys to separate themselves from their attachments to the physical plane (or get so hungry, thirsty, tired, or just plain uncomfortable that they started hallucinating themselves into enlightenment). Goddesses decidedly did not.
So Lethe was back in one of her favorite spots in the mortal realm, thinking her thoughts with perfect clarity and understanding, thanksverymuch. She found her thoughts were in no way impeded by the extremely tasty gyro she was eating, bought from a little shop that had an almost perfect view of the Aegean. Food was something that she found actually wasn't overrated. Granted, there weren't many gyros that could stand up against nectar or ambrosia, but this was definitely one of them - and they were worth seeking out.