𝖮𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖲𝖮𝖭.

“Aye —- as pitiful as a wet dog.”

Thor would mumble, tossing his axe back to the ground, its blade cutting into grass with a hardened thud. “You may come from hiding, stranger. They will not bother thee now.”

Hm.

It is never a stupid reason to pray. Let you remember that.

Ha! Well, no one has ever done that. But I will stay, if you need me to.

I listen to all prayers made to Thor. Some even to Odin —- I do what I can to answer them.

Now at his full Godly height —- Thor reaches for his axe. Taking it from
The ground with a minor ‘thunk.’

“Tell me, what has she done to deserve this fate?”

“Ah. My brother deals in magic. He is truly unkind too. For moments. . .now that I think of it he has not reached out to me. .anyways, this woman —- this mage.

You did not mention one thing of what she’s done wrong.” He stands, his red cape shifts along his broad shoulders. (c)

It is fairly simple. You may pray, and I will hear it. It may take me time to get there, without my hammer I am flightless, so I travel by Goat. But when you pray, I will arrive.

“Aye, it has been a mighty long time since I have heard your words, Captain. Yet they still carry the weight of a man wise beyond his mortal years. Thank you, my friend. You mustn’t worry for me. . .

. .for as long as I draw breath, I shall remain Thor.”

“Without question. Captain.”

Then they are foolish. For we are nothing without our friends. You mustn’t worry, Aspis, for Thor shall always be there for you.

“Captain. My, it is good to see a face as trusting as yours. But I. .I am not the same, thy friend. The life has changed. My power too.”

All-Father. . .

. . .thy hammer ignores me. Help me.

We vary. My brother Loki can never decide —- my sister Hela is. .worrisome. But for the most part we fair on the side of kindness.

Aye, you worry to much. I am a God of my word, and my word rings true. You are a friend of Thor, and Thor of you.

There’s tension building, Fang raises his head in a very goatly moan, then moves off into the bushes.

“This woman. What may she look like?”

“Depends.”

Thor says, stoking the fire, he turns the deer meet once more —- it needed to cook on its opposite side. ‘Depends on?’ Says the stranger. “What thee plans to do with her. If I were to give her up?”

They don’t like that, and they shuffle some where they stand. (c)

Then we will cherish those good days together; for now you have a friend. In I, Thor Odinson.

“‘Morning? —- I fear I’m not. Oh. HA.

. . .well no. However my does rise. But that is not what I meant.”

Thor shoots a side glance towards the other. “Someone with beauty such as thee should surely not be in trouble. Unless I am mistaken.”

“These troubles that follow —- do they come here now, to thy camp?”

“Heh.”

Thor gave off a laugh. Although now he could hear the foot steps too, and his axe Jarnbjorn sings to him from a few feet away. “Aye. I know what you crave.” He says in a whisper to the weapon. (c)

Fret not. To cry is to be strong, only the weak decide emotions are below them. We must feel, feel all of it. If we do not, then we are no one at all. I’d share this tear with thee, if I had any to spare. But I find myself drinking more than crying now.

Then it was meant to, thy friend. But I had a helmet —- it had wings to it. I have not worn it since. .well since I lost thy hammer.

Fang lowered his head, returning to his pot of feed, munching silently into the night.

‘Although thy goat is not the best judge of character.’ He shifted some where he sat. ‘Who is it you hide from?’

‘Nay.’ He says. ‘You seem like no Damsel.’ Thor says with a huff, turning his attention back to the fire that crackled before him, as a large chunk of deer cooked upon a skewer. (c)

Aye. It is. A hard fought life, the victory of it is waking up. I’d say I’m proud of thee, if thou would let me.

( there is solemn on his face —- and the Aesir is unsure how to help. )

I am sorry, Aspis. For pain knows no ends, and hath no thought for friendships.

( Thor notices, he offers a gentle look. )

Some stories need not spoken. Curses be damned —- if they are not the most powerful enemy in one’s own story. Thou mustn’t tell much more —- unless thee wishes for an ear to lean on.