Thanatos huffs. "You and I both know that we have a good supply of Ambrosia with how much the train will give us for a single order. We could have it and time in equal measure." The number of bottles in Thanatos's cabin is proof of that, and he's surprised his cabinmates haven't thought him to be like Dionysus and his drink.

"But... I see. And, well. I'm... grateful, too, for this." Whatever "this" now is. He shakes his head and lifts up his glass as Zagreus does, trying to disguise the sudden... disappointment he feels. Are they not talking about the same thing after all? He can't explain it, but just seconds earlier, he felt so drawn by Zagreus's presence. There was a strange want in him. He thought he sensed the same in him. In the way he looks at him, squeezes his hand, his reason for doing all of this.

But now? It feels like Zagreus is pulling back from him on purpose. Did Thanatos say something wrong? Should he not have asked? He didn't expect this answer, and he tries to mask his confusion.

Well... perhaps he'll figure it out after tasting this Ambrosia. Still, the hard, cool glass on his lips is jarring when he had been expecting (hoping for?) a softer warmth.