Sif was rather used to this sort of behavior from men. They hadn't called her the 'fairest of Asgard' for nothing and no matter what she was now, she was still a goddess and those drew attention.
She tried to chat back to all of them around her, smiling, inviting, delightful, even apologising to the one she'd pushed earlier and saying how terrible she felt. That part was true at least, and she loved the attention they were giving her now.
The last member of the party spoke and Sif noticed her stomach drop again, that uncomfortable feeling she'd been having all day. His voice... was it familiar? Was there something...
Sif looked past the men and to the stranger, of whom she could only see the back of his head. Her brow furrowed as she watched him move, watched the muscles on the backs of his arm, watched the tendril of sweat that crept down the back of his neck.
"Are you sure there isn't something I could get you?" she asked the man who ignored her, distracted from everything but needing to him to turn around, needing him to speak.