Gods are perfect beings, unchanging and undying.

The ‘why’ and ‘how’ of it did not interest Galico, he was not the god of science or learning, but the ‘what’ of it did.

What was he supposed to entertain himself with?

During his long and tedious life, he has died countless times, felt and understood what it was like to have his flesh be rended clean from bone or to have them mix so thoroughly that one cannot be separated from the other. A million different characters he’s lived, each one discarded without a second thought as soon as he lost interest.

He’s done everything there was to do, lived as selfishly and selflessly as he desired, so what’s left?

Paws padding across the surface of an old rusted steel beam, Galico toed the edge between the rusted metal and swirling air, relishing in the small spark of adrenaline that shot through him. Even with all of the deaths he’s experienced, a living being’s instinct to avoid death and pain was difficult to completely suppress. It’s still a pastime he enjoys, one that allows him to see the horrified faces of other gods as he shows up to their domain mangled but, nonetheless, it has also lost the sharp thrill of excitement like many of his other hobbies after the elapse of several centuries.

The beam creaked ominously beneath him, the only warning before the thin wires holding it up snapped, sending the beam plummeting.

Galico yawned, waiting patiently for the crunch of bone when his body inevitably collided with the ground. When he landed on something soft and warm instead, his ears straightened with curiosity. Looking down, he noticed a palm, curled carefully around his body, before seeing the crushed remains of a human under the beam he had just been on.

How foolish.

But,

Galico grinned, eyes curving into pleased crescents.

It had been a while since he was last surprised. Perhaps this human will be able to entertain him for a little while.

Pressing his nose to your palm, the back of your hand glowed as a bud outlined itself onto your skin, blooming into a flower sporting eight delicate petals.

When you came to a while later, the cat that you had tried to catch from the sky was sitting next to your hand. The beam that had fallen alongside the cat rested on the ground right next to you, much too close for comfort and a terrifying reminder of the death you had just narrowly avoided.

At the sight of you awake, the cat seemed to smile, its tail flicking once before it padded forward slowly. Sniffing your hand, it nudged its cheek into your palm, purring softly.