[Sif still isn't certain that she hasn't fallen in to some form of Hel, or at least some place of dark sorcery. He is dead, after all, fallen at Jotunheim, according to Thor. Her Prince's word is not something that she would question, unlike the one who is next to her. Yet here he stands, seemingly hale, and as vexing as always.
His suggestion is met with a dry and disapproving look. As loathe as she is to be within his presence, it is better here than causing whatever mayhem he might otherwise get up to. She trusts him as far as she can throw him- less, likely.]
I think not. Together we have been placed. Together we will remain.
[For now, anyway, where she can keep an eye on him. The mischief stinks of him anyway.]
no subject
His suggestion is met with a dry and disapproving look. As loathe as she is to be within his presence, it is better here than causing whatever mayhem he might otherwise get up to. She trusts him as far as she can throw him- less, likely.]
I think not. Together we have been placed. Together we will remain.
[For now, anyway, where she can keep an eye on him. The mischief stinks of him anyway.]