Freyr and his love for the sun, Ariadne grinned to hear it. It's beautiful, Ariadne typed as she moved down the aisle of the bus, having decided that it was going to be faster to get off at the next stop and trot around the corner than it would be to wait for the bus to try it. Why are we disappearing inside a gallery on a day like today again? Something about expanding horizons, am I right?