Prometheus snorts out a laugh. The mead is having an effect on him, too. He's no lightweight, but god-tier alcohol is harder to come by these days. "No, no, no. Not even a four-legged horse, that was thanks to Poseidon. But he had a thing about disguises. He's been a bull, a swan, a rain shower, an ant." He gives Thor a 'can you believe this guy?' kind of look. "What kind of pick-up artist decides to be an ant? It worked, though. He's the father of half the gods on Olympus, and dozens of heroes. Everyone says that his wife, Hera, is foul-tempered, but I would be, too, if my husband acted like that."

He takes another sip of mead, nearly emptying his glass. "Was that Sleipnir you were referring to? Where'd he come from?"