[The nut is so loud when he chews inside his head that he must stop doing so for a moment to hear what Dimitri is saying. It sounds lovely, white flowers and garlands, something he believes his birthmother would enjoy, and hunting tournaments across the woods. It all feels very distant and utopic. The irony of thinking such while he comes from divinity is not lost on him.] That sounds delightful. Did you participate?

[A particularly hard bite breaks the nut in his mouth in two with a crack, and he promptly chews on those halves thoughtfully.] I'm not the best one to ask, but I know that a festival is held in honor of the goddesses of seasons and harvest around the time when the last seeds of the year are sown. [Demeter and her daughter Persephone. Mentioning that they're his grandmother and mother, respectively, felt wrong because it all feels distant, in a way. He folds his legs and rests his arms on the knees loosely as he keeps watching the children and their caretakers following them.] There's another — although not around this time of the year, I believe? — where people dress differently like so. Apokries, a three-week-long celebration. Celebrating Lord Dyonisus. I've only heard tales of them, though. Never participated. [A shame, really. He always heard those three weeks were wild.]