"Well, that is the purpose of my wine. With it perhaps you can handle more than you imagine," Dionysos said with a smile, taking Freyja's elbow lightly in her hand and leading her to a sunny spot in the glade. His followers hurried along after them in a meandering parade.
"Well, perhaps one winter I will try such a thing. I have to say I enjoy this vast world, but the idea of being so cold you have to wrap yourself in furs, or stand near a fire ... it seems unnatural to me," Dionysos said with a self-deprecating laugh. "There's always a sun kissed glade waiting for me elsewhere. And I do hate clothing."
Dionysos seated himself there in the grass and the Maenads hurried over to the vines that were sprouting around the glade now, quickly growing and moving towards fruition. "A drink, perhaps, Love?"