He merely absorbs the bit about Calliope silently. It’s easy enough to commit to memory.

“... I suppose I can delegate,” he says, calling over the eldest of the yamask. For the exchange of a poffin and the signed promise of more where that came from for everyone, the yamask floats off to gather the others.

Within but a moment, the yamask brigade is back, gently corralling cutiefly. That calm yamask takes the tooth brush in its grip and floats away, leading the cutiefly away as if he were the pied piper. One by one, in the background of Hades’ recounting, the Yamask hold the cutiefly one by one, petting them and brushing them out.

“...go on.”