Danta isn't here for stupid nightmares. He is here for parties, though, even if the journey via skyship from the Hollowed Grounds - in Deepfrost, of all times - has been a fairly considerable one.
"At least there's booze aplenty," he rumbles to Astaroth, having snagged a mulled cider from one of the stalls as he nestles down into his thick scarf. His old-new coat (upgraded courtesy of Deimos, thank you kindly) keeps the majority of the cold at bay, but all of the exposed parts - fingers, face, etc. - still need protecting from becoming stone.
Something the cider is working wonders at doing, might he add.
But there's other things to contend with, apparently, before the Maverick succumbs to booze and music and the chaos of the Castaway Exchange. A painted barrel; a lucky dip; two masked figures that do not at all seem to be what they appear.
"I'll have a go," he announces once the Mer has taken his turn, reaching into the barrel for a good old rummage.
Danta has a turn at the Lucky Dip!
