[ He flinched--of course he flinched. Who wouldn't flinch at the sound and sight of a heat and light that could have very easily been aimed to kill? It's a rare occasion when humor doesn't slip through the cracks; what a terrible time to comment on Zeus' aim this would be.

This isn't the time for it, and definitely not the place. His eyes linger at the melted crater where lightning had just struck for only a moment, before returning up to face his maker.

(Hermes knows liars, he knows all their tricks. This isn't one, he meets him eye to eye, as honest as one could possibly be. ) ]

Because you've never been able to tell when I'm telling the truth? I'm telling it now, Father, I swear it. What do you need me to swear upon for you to believe me? I've got nothing--If you could get Gaia to talk to you she would tell you. I would never do this.

Why, why would I?