When the air beside Thor split with green and Huginn came flying out, he was not surprised. Like before, he landed on Thor's shoulder, claws digging into armor and cape as his head bent to relay the information with the Thunderer.
Vanaheim. Again. A brisk rub to Huginn's chest feathers and a nod to his own Einherjar -- consent to summon the warriors of Asgard -- and he was off, Mjolnir leading the way to the Bifrost. It was not long before it began to light with the members of the drótt, the chiming heard before their footsteps were. A smile pulled tight lips upwards as he reached to open the Bifrost -- and the air cleaved again, a little slice of green as Muninn flew forth.
He took the opposite shoulder from Huginn's customary spot and bent his head. Yet another attack. Alfheim. "Bring up the second band," Thor ordered the scout. "Tell them to go to Alfheim. Meet us on Vanaheim." They had gotten bold indeed to think that Asgard would not answer the call to battle. Message delivered, Muninn took to the sky again while rainbow colored light split the sky of Asgard and took the warband to a ravaged town in Vanaheim.
When he left Asgard, the sun had not yet set. And when he returned from Alfheim, the sun was in the sky again. Those that were injured were taken to the healing chambers and the prisoners -- those few Marauders that they had managed to capture while the rest fled -- were taken to the dungeons. Too few were taken. It rankled. And something about it wiggled at his brain, something that he would have ignored years ago in favor of rushing into battle, but now tempted him to think. "Bring me maps of all nine realms," he ordered a page as he entered the citadel and set a course for his chambers. "And leave them in the council chambers."