"Perhaps, but I believe those are the ones who can dream still.", he offered simply in way of response, his fingers tapping gently against his arm. He never really understood why. He hated feeling quite so vulnerable as he did when he slept, his dreams often plagued by the fall, the guilt and betrayal he so often felt lingering at the back of his mind. At least he could control his thoughts when he was awake and active, but sleep left him with none whatsoever.
"Well regardless, I can't simply stand back and let you handle everything.", Loki shrugged, not bothering to make up a reason why really. The man beside him was smart enough, he more than likely already knew the god worried over him. Even with his supposed general disdain of mortals. "That would be rude. Don't you think?"