It was infectious, that carefree laugh that came out of him. The sound was warm, uncomplicated, nonjudgmental, and rather sweet. Bast found that she couldn't quite stop smiling, and it wasn't just because Thanatos was amusing in his inebriation. She'd laughed at those too drunk or high to know what they were doing before. This was different somehow, but Bast was in too good of a mood to analyze it too deeply right then.
She listened to him babble about music, but something he said made her pause slightly and look at him again. The spirits made him stop playing the harp because he was terrible. The spirits made him stop. The spirits. It was only then that she recognized why she'd been able to pinpoint him as being Greek so quickly: she'd actually heard his name before. From Anubis. Thanatos was the Greek death god.
He was a contemporary of her favorite brother, so that almost made him a friend. Bast tightened her arm around his as they strolled further down the street. She'd get the bread, take him to meet her friends, and keep an eye on him until he came down from his high. Which, from the sounds of it, might take a little while.
“Oh I do a lot of things,” she told him, beaming from the newest compliment about her golden glow. “I defend kings. I protect pregnant women. But mostly, I'm in charge of singing, dancing and music. It's why I'm loving this right now. The music here? Is amazing. Don't you think so?”
Bast stopped walking then, turning to look at him. Without asking, she reached up to draw the sunglasses off his face, finding pretty blue eyes behind the tinted glass. She smiled at him, gently stroking his cheek and asked, “Am I still glowing now? Am I still gold?”