Well, his flying skills had come back more easily than he'd expected, but Loki wasn't sure the familiar falcon shape was the best choice for a mission inside a volcano. Vultures probably were more heat resistant. He'd have to look into how fast they were.
For now he was satisfied and tired, though. He landed on a branch near the manor door, hopped off, shifted in midair ... and fell hard to his knees. Ah yes, that was the problem with bird shapes. He'd have to practise the maneuver.
He was about to go inside to get some rest and maybe a documentary about volcanoes or at least desert animals when he noticed the shape next to the pond. Curiosity won over tiredness and he walked over.
"Hi there, here to swim?" The weather was warm enough in his opinion, though the natives of this warm country might not yet agree, but he hadn't realised the pond was deep enough. Maybe he should come up with an excuse to practise some of his sweet water animal shapes?
Islington was no longer alone. It opened its eyes, otherwise unmoving, and looked up. He looked half-mad, and the angel decided that it was certainly still asleep. It shut its eyes, deciding that it was not in the mood to dream and hoped that it would wake up and the phantom would go away. The man reminded it of London Below, and it was not a fond memory.
Just in case, it clasped its fingers over the jewel in the grass as though that would keep the dream from noticing it. Islington was tired of dreams. They were nuisances. It sighed, wished him away, and flicked its eyes open.
The man was still there.
The horrible possibility that it might all be real began to dawn on it. It considered him lazily and said, "No." After a moment, it repeated itself in English. Best not to use languages dead since it had been locked up beneath London when trying to communicate. (Well, and because it had been locked up, but never mind that.)
The shape appeared to be a goddess, though it was hard to tell. She was wet disoriented and clutching a jewel, or maybe a necklace. Most likely this was very valuable to her and Loki considered trying to steal it, just to prove that he could.
Now wasn't the time, though.
"Then we'd best get you inside and died off," he decided. "Do you live in the manor?"
Islington begged to differ. "Really, I am perfectly fine, though I suppose that a towel would not go amiss," it said. It yawned as though it had not just slept a very long time. "Do I look-" Like the sort of person who lives in a manor? It was about to make a comment about the British upper classes and how far they must have fallen if they were frequently seen sunbathing by their ponds in early springtime, but decided that it was probably just in the 'thirties. That had been a lovely decade.
It eyed the fellow, probably some sort of lower servant, and wondered how hard it would be to sneak away. Admittedly, it should probably let the fellow give it clothes and then sneak away. Right then. "Yes, of course, I do. Here, give me a hand up."
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For now he was satisfied and tired, though. He landed on a branch near the manor door, hopped off, shifted in midair ... and fell hard to his knees. Ah yes, that was the problem with bird shapes. He'd have to practise the maneuver.
He was about to go inside to get some rest and maybe a documentary about volcanoes or at least desert animals when he noticed the shape next to the pond. Curiosity won over tiredness and he walked over.
"Hi there, here to swim?" The weather was warm enough in his opinion, though the natives of this warm country might not yet agree, but he hadn't realised the pond was deep enough. Maybe he should come up with an excuse to practise some of his sweet water animal shapes?
Reply
Just in case, it clasped its fingers over the jewel in the grass as though that would keep the dream from noticing it. Islington was tired of dreams. They were nuisances. It sighed, wished him away, and flicked its eyes open.
The man was still there.
The horrible possibility that it might all be real began to dawn on it. It considered him lazily and said, "No." After a moment, it repeated itself in English. Best not to use languages dead since it had been locked up beneath London when trying to communicate. (Well, and because it had been locked up, but never mind that.)
Reply
Now wasn't the time, though.
"Then we'd best get you inside and died off," he decided. "Do you live in the manor?"
Reply
It eyed the fellow, probably some sort of lower servant, and wondered how hard it would be to sneak away. Admittedly, it should probably let the fellow give it clothes and then sneak away. Right then. "Yes, of course, I do. Here, give me a hand up."
Reply
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