"Aye, and spring seems to be moving quickly," conversationally. "It's nice."

Dionysus' mood is contagious; Lancelot has been feeling fairly well, himself, but the worry and anxiety he feels for those he loves, those who are grieving, has been a constant thrum in the background. It's easing to see Dionysus made glad by something so simple as seeing the horses. The sunlight and the light breeze, and the smell of new things growing, all help, too.