"Well, do you still make that marvelous wine? The pale red one, with a hint of nuts? I've boasted about it all the way here." "There was a vineyard once, up on the slope of the Horn Ridge," Persephone said. "But it was lost to drought decades ago." Nyphron scowled. "Doesn't anything in this place last?" "Hardship," Persephone replied. "We always have an abundance of that." The god looked directly at her. Their eyes met and he smiled. With a nod, he replied, "Well... at least you have that."