The ring of the doorbell startled Sif. She hadn't been expecting anyone. She actually had a free day to herself, and had decided to curl up and start reading one of the books from her dreadfully neglected pile of "must reads". She'd put on a pair of yoga pants and a white t-shirt, and tucked her bare feet under her.
Quickly, she set down the book and rushed to slip on a pair of simple black flats. She reached her hand up to check her hair, then opened the door.
Hedylogos at her door was a common enough sight. They'd been friends for centuries. Sif had made it clear early on she had no interest in anything other than a platonic relationship, expecting that would be the end of that. Yet he had turned out to be among her dearest of friends.
While his presence was not unusual, his condition was, and she instantly knew something was wrong. Noting the bottle of wine, she skipped her usual friendly greeting.
"Come on in. I'll get some glasses and you can tell me what's wrong."