The God Killer always looks threatening, and his resting look could possibly kill a man by itself. Of course; he’s a broad, tall armed being with multiple scars and tattoos. But, right now, he’s slightly less intimidating than usual, and his body language is more relaxed, even if the change is unnoticeable to the untrained eye. He’s happy. Somewhat.

He walks down the snowy forest, still having the same stone-cold expression he normally wears. But at least he’s not on the defensive, and he’s not drawn any of his weapons, even if he still refuses to acknowledge his small companion.

He doesn’t hate this child, he could never hate them. They remind him of Calliope, and of Atreus, before the young boy left. He feels like a parent again, even if this kid that’s been accompanying him for the last few months is not even his own in blood. But maybe this is another opportunity he was given, a chance to not mess things up again. A chance to really act like a father with this small thing that’s walking by his side.

Granted, he doesn’t know how to do that, and his lack of facial expression makes his inexperience clear. But he’s going to try, maybe so that he can feel a bit better with himself. Or maybe because he cares about the kid, even if he would probably never admit that. Not because he minds his reputation getting ruined, but because he fears to fail once more.

He continues walking in silence while all these thoughts cross his mind. He doesn’t notice that his expression has softened, though, and that it does so a little bit more every time he glances at his protegee.