He's as haggard and tired as ever when he arrives this time, and she rushes over to hug him, but as she pulls away, her hands are stained the same red as his clothes.

"Oh, Zagreus," she says, eyes flicking across him as if trying to gauge where the injuries are, what treatment is suitable, "please, sit down, let me-"

"Please, Mother, don't worry about it; I'll be--" he staggers, the massive gash across his chest draining to the ground, but the smile on his face isn't even forced, "--I'll be back soon, I promise."