|The Lady Sif (strandsofnaught) wrote in avengers_logs,|
@ 2018-04-14 17:56:00
The hour was late.
Too late to be awake, but Sif was as she found herself these days. Sleep was not apparently a good friend of hers, but she was at the very least putting her waking hours to good use by casting her gaze over the slumbering creature she had come to know as Hulk.
Apparently according to Thor and the others there was man trapped inside him, somebody called Bruce Banner. She flexed her fingers restlessly around the spear that she had procured as she watched the troubled creature as he tossed and turned, grumbling, apparently trapped deep in some nightmare.
It was complex, this situation, and not one she envied. She had for the longest time schooled herself to be in control and in charge that she did not wish that lack of control on anyone, especially as she knew what it was to have all choice taken and to be left with all that remained. Sif was not familiar with Hulk so hadn't attempted conversation but had held eye contact each time the Hulk had sought it out because that what was you did to tell creatures of base instinct (for the most part) that you were not afraid nor something to trample over.
She heaved out a slow breath and reached up to curl her cloak around her as there was a definite chill in the air though was grateful to see that the Hulk had finally sought refuge in his covers and was finally settling now that he had firmly cocooned himself in them. He at this particular moment looked a lot like a child and that was very odd, especially given his size and the fury that Sif had witnessed, but she was lucky in that she got to see him at his most vulnerable so had the benefit of that realisation.
Midgard was a very strange realm indeed and Sif was finally beginning to accept that fact.