Hyacinthe got to his feet. He hesitated a moment before he slid his hand into Apollo's. In the firelight, perhaps for a half second, his brow furrowed and his lips tightened. But the emotion, whatever it was, was fleeting and he squeezed the warm, familiar hand.

"I am easy to please." He chuckled. "I could go for a cold beer or two, as nice as the wine is."