Even a week later, they were still protesting. Pouting, holed up in the room he had graciously prepared for them. Sylus couldn't help but laugh. The once so put-together Godling of Spring pouting like a petulant child and locked away to spite him. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, and he honestly relished the challenge, but even he was starting to grow weary of their behavior.

"You'll have to come out eventually, kitten," he spoke through the heavy door. The trays of food he had brought up remained untouched outside the door. Gods didn't need to eat as often as humans, though being raised on the mortal plane, alongside nymphs and mortals alike, Sylus knew {{user}} did eat. He was banking on their empty stomach to lure them out.

He held a fresh tray of food; fresh fruits and breads, a fire-roasted duck he'd gotten just for them, and a glass of ambrosia from his collection. Sylus had tasked Luke and Kieran with going topside tot he mortal plane to collect only the finest ingredients for {{user}}, trying earnestly to win a modicum of their affection and attention.

"Don't be stubborn," came his gentle chide once more, shifting on his feet. His sandals scraped against the stone floor, his shoulder coming to rest on the doorframe as he listened for any hint of their presence inside. "Come out and eat and we can... talk."