Unfortunately, however, a single moment was not the only amount of time that had passed since they had last seen each other. Loki knew. He had kept track of the days, the hours, since his dear wife had been in his presence. The sentiment may have seemed sweet, were his intentions in the right place. Instead of missing her smile, though, or her sweet disposition, he had found himself missing her arms, her hands, and most importantly the bowl she had held above his head to keep that sickening poison from dripping onto his features.
He had counted every drip since she had been quite abruptly torn from his side. The number was too vast to measure.
It was a shock to see her in this modern day body, but he presumed it would be a shock for her to see him as well. He had chosen a younger form this time around, and at first glance of his wife, all he could think about was how amusing it seemed that she appeared older than he. The age difference wasn't too vast, though, so his thoughts didn't dwell on it for long.
When his eyes met her gaze, he was struck by how shocked she looked. He had told her that he rarely had reason to blatantly lie to her, so his appearance really shouldn't have been so surprising. But then, she knew his nature as well as he knew himself, and it really was only whim and fancy that drove him to visit his wife so soon.
"Sigyn," he stated, voice as soft and inherently condescending as ever. His eyebrow rose curiously when she made no move to come near to him. "Have you grown so skittish in our time apart?" And with that, he made a low sweeping gesture with his arms, entreating her to come to him.