Loki smiled and chuckled and moved around to Sleipnir's neck, running his hands along the hide until they tangled themselves in his son's mane. He listened to Hermod as he praised the horse -calling him amazing, and smart and fast, then went on to say how he was quite manipulative with his sad faces to get something he wanted. “It must run in the family,” he chuckled harder, not even considering what he had said.
Running his fingers through the main to try to detangle it, Loki noticed that his son was turning his head to try to look at him, then swinging harder to nip at Loki's tunic. “Stop that,” Loki said, and pushed his head out of the way the next time he swung it around. “He's grown big... and strong... since I first brought him to your father.”
Nodding, he stopped fussing with the mane and moved around the side to the back, letting his hand linger on the flesh of the animal as much as possible. It not only told Sleipnir where he was, it was a warm, pleased touch. The touch of a mother to her... no, his... son. As he rounded to the front of the beast again, he put his hands back on the horse's head. One on the forehead stroking down from the forelock, and one on the soft muzzle.
“You do a good job of taking care of him, kid,” he said. No matter how grown any of Odin's sons with Frigg ever were, they were always still kids to him. Well, except for Baldr. Baldr was a jerk.