Heel, toe, heel, toe. Hel walked along the narrow path of a balcony’s railing with a rehearsed grace and precision. She did not fear falling, not from this or the highest balcony in her realm. The free fall, even the promise of it, was exhilarating. From this, the second lowest balcony of Éljúðnir, Hel could see her old friend pass through the gate that bordered her home from the rest of the realm. Where her face had previously been an expressionless mask, she now smiled.
“Trust fall!” She called before taking a short step off an even shorter structure. With her arms outstretched and her eyes closed, she was a picture of serenity. All in all, it took her about twenty seconds to reach him, but her feet didn’t touch the ground. She hovered - eyes level with his - for a moment or so while she was carefully lowered the last two feet to the ground. Silently, she bowed her head at either of her sides. Thanking the unseen beings that had carried her to the ground.
And then her attentions were back on Apollo, her smile wide and eyes bright. “You know, I didn’t realise how much strain there is on my neck to meet your gaze,” she said with a laugh. Taking his arm in hers, she continued to giggle, uncaring if she had scared him. The fear of gods was not as everlasting as that of men.