[Appalachia, 16th century.]

[changeinasnap]

He remembers seeing the slow formation of this new country uncountable years past, from a much higher vantage point than he's got right now. Several hundred miles inland, the earth humps up into shallow ridges like the scales on a dragon's back -- shallow, at least, compared to the spot he picked to spend all his time before now. It'll do, though

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[old_gods]

The orange light is fire, unmistakable. That and the horse suggest that there might be a traveler here, some wandering human alone in the mountains.

Two travelers, maybe; it looks like there's a second horse behind the first, from the number of legs.

No, wait.

[changeinasnap]

Curiosity takes him as far as a hundred yards below the cave, near enough to get a good look at the horse.

The frown deepens. He extends a finger and twitches it back and forth, counting out the legs, then yanks it back and mutters under the wind, "Ah, hell."

What is he even -- ?

Not important. So not important. Now would be a really good time to leave; he backs up three hasty steps --

[old_gods]

Black-feathered wings beat about his head, black talons close on both his shoulders, and he's hauled unceremoniously into the air.

The orange light inside the cave shifts, as a shadow moves between it and the entrance.

[changeinasnap]

"Wh -- ow!"

Bird talons sting when they're digging into your shoulders. His legs scrabble on thin air as he tries to twist free. "Good birds -- Huginn, Muninn, come on, it's me, knock it off -- "

Yeah, like that's going to get him anywhere.

[old_gods]

"They know you."

The old man stands in the mouth of the cave, leaning on a staff, his face shaded by a broad-brimmed hat that just barely fails to hide the single empty eyesocket. His good eye is bright and fierce enough to make up for the loss of the other; his voice is harsh as ice against stone.

"Loki."

[changeinasnap]

And just like that, the fight goes out of him. The physical fight, at least; he stops his kicking, and lets his arms fall loose, and quits trying to get the attention of the two ravens holding him captive in midair.

All of his attention's on the old man now.

"Odin," he says, with something that could only be construed as respect if you were completely deaf. He grins. "Must've missed the big parade. When'd you show up?"

[old_gods]

"I could ask you the same thing, trickster. We felt no earthquakes, no tidal waves. The worldserpent and Fenrir are still bound."

He takes a step out into the snow, grounding the staff with a sharp stabbing thrust; his grip on it is more that of a spear.

"How is it you walk free?"

[changeinasnap]

"...Uh, I took off the chains?"

He spreads his fingers, wiggling his hands. (Centuries from now, the gesture will be most often described as jazz hands.)

"You should really talk to your guy sometime, One-Eye. I mean, come on -- there's cutting corners, and then there's just bad craftsmanship."

[old_gods]

"Those chains were forged to be unbreakable," Odin snaps.

[changeinasnap]

"And yet, here I am."

He waggles his eyebrows.

[old_gods]

"And yet." In his mouth, the words turn into something between a threat and a curse. "Here you are."

He lifts the staff, light abruptly glinting from the spear blade at its end, and levels the sharp point at the other god.

[changeinasnap]

"Whoa hey hey hey o-kay, no need for that," he says, with a swiftness that almost crosses into babbling. He flashes a nervous grin, holding up his hands. "No need for the midair hoist either. Believe me. Think you could call off your birds?"

Seriously, he's going to get a cramp if this keeps up much longer.

[old_gods]

Odin lifts his head and gestures with it, just slightly. The ravens release their grip and circle upward, dropping Loki to sprawl on his back in the snow.

Before he can rise, the spear flashes down to bite through the fur cloak he's wearing and pin him to the ground.

[changeinasnap]

Instinctively, he jerks to the side, even though Odin's aim hasn't flown true.

(And he's got no illusions that One-Eye missed on accident.)

"I just made those!" he protests. A tug at the cloak; it's stuck fast. "Odin -- "

[old_gods]

"Huginn. Muninn." Odin's single eye is fixed on Loki's face. "Summon the rest of the Aesir. They'll want to see who's returned."

He leans closer, addressing Loki directly. "And I wouldn't want them to miss the chance to see you die."

Black wings flicker, and are gone.

[changeinasnap]

He swallows.

"Okay. Look. Odin. Have I bothered you at all since I got out? Any of you? Seriously, we have to keep up this dance why now?"