[ Ogmios is used to sharing his bed with all sorts of individuals - men, women, mortals, gods, all sorts, but those followed by the scent of alcohol have never been his favourites, nor warmly welcomed. Ogmois stirs, sensitive and faintly bothered by the man next to him. Unimpressed, he props himself up on his elbows, gaze dull and disinterested, wishing rather to go back to a more comfortable sleep, though somewhat unsure as to what to do with this strange man by his side. ]
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