The visit was long overdue. Persephone had vowed that she would go, that she would see Amaya, and truly, felt that she needed to see the young woman. Her boys, as she sometimes considered them, her family, were sweet and could be earnest, in their own ways. She had no doubt that Dionysus and Komos had, in their turns, done the best they could by and for the mortal who had been so abused by the Society. There were some hurts, however, that required a gentler hand and a softer shoulder to lean upon. This, Persephone imagined, might be such a one.
So she went to Amaya's sanctuary. Not with fanfare nor any expection of great excitement at her arrival. She stepped onto the property with a quiet sort of reverence, said her hellos to a pair of trees standing sentinel, then made her way to the main building to announce herself, as it were, to the staff in attendance and inquire after Amaya.
When she had been pointed in the right direction, she took several moments to gather the gifts and treasures she meant for the woman, then padded, barefoot, to the place where the mortal chose to rest. Wherever it was, Persephone would make do.