Having tasted the bitter draught of love lost, Brynhildr had all but given up on it. She would never trust a mortal man anymore, too much treachery there, and hardly trusted any other. In the middle of her shift though she wondered about that. Charon came to mind. He wasn't a shapeshifter and had given no cause for distrust.
He'd talked to her and understood her duties.
But she couldn't leave, despite her desires. But when she felt him she smiled and hurried down the corridors, smiling wider when she finally did find him.