When the ground became suitably uneven at a section, Hades released himself from the goddess's grip. For safer navigation. More balance. He had a bad feeling that she might grab his arm again. It seemed to be a thing with her. He had a bad feeling that if he let her keep grabbing his arm again that eventually it might seem like a normal thing to do. Hades had to choose his normals carefully.
He alternated from looking at her to looking at the path as they walked, and he listened. “I don't think places are punishments,” Hades said. “They're just tools. You can use tools for anything. I think punishment is separation.” He paused slightly. “The one who lost the war. The main one. His punishment is not that he is in that cage down here. His punishment is that he can't get to anything out of it” Hades explained. That old ruler could not have anything he wanted anymore. There were walls in the way. It wasn't really the best example, but Hades got a feeling the one who swallowed everything was who Philotes was referencing anyway.
She wasn't really talking about punishment. She was talking about home. Home in her context. Not Hades. But he'd rather talk about punishment. He'd had more experience with that. Hades had once had a very long time to think about it. He looked around the surrounding area. This place could use another wall.
“It's possible,” Hades said. “I guess we will see.” If he was going to rule it, it would at least comply to all of his definitions. As for Philotes', Hades wasn't sure that was better than a burden or a responsibility. You could trust a burden. You could trust a responsibility. You couldn't trust a home. Not as far as family was concerned. Family members tricked each other. They didn't always fulfill the roles they were assigned. They weren't always the things they said they were.