He was doing a fairly good job of ignoring her as he moved a branch out of the way and stuck his torso out in the storm to wipe his hands through the snow, melting it enough that it effectively stripped the rabbit blood away from his flesh. That was until he put the branch back and started to adjust the tightness of the blanket around his waist. Then he fought to keep the words he spoke from coming out as a snarl. “And you don't know me either, so don't you think it's awfully presumptuous of you to tell me 'toughen up' without having a clue on what goes on in my day to day life?”
Blanket adjusted, he moved back closer to the fire more for the light than for the warmth. “Call me when you've had everything you've ever said under constant scrutiny and manipulated to suit the need of the moment. When you've had your lips sewn shut because you had to get creative when you are ordered to do something you really don't want to do, that benefits everyone other than yourself and you have to do that or let some filthy dwarfs lob your head off; when you've been ripped away from your children because it suits them; when damn near everything you desire is taken away from you like the favored blanket of a child; when you give all of yourself because you're pretty sure if you don't some of them will create a reason to kill you... when that happens, then you can lecture me on not being so sensitive. Tell me how easy it is to 'toughen up' as you put it, when pretty much all you know is defeat.”
Loki sat down near the fire, close to his emptied pack, reached for the bound stack of parchment and opened it to read the Greek within. Before he settled to reading, he looked up at Sigyn and sighed. “Some days I think I should have never have gone to Asgard. I should have told the old man to fuck off and never looked back. You know next to nothing about me other than what the rumors say. You think you have it so fucking bad, go to Greece.” Then he looked back down at his book. “Or better yet, don't. Women are treated as property there. Last time I went to see Hermes I watched a woman get very nearly stoned to death in Athens because she dared to leave her house without a male escort.”
He'd let that sink in for a moment. Sigyn may not have been able to do much without permission or an escort, but at least she wasn't in fear for her life if she did as she chose any way. In the meanwhile, he was going to read some inscribed bit of poetry that was composed by some mortal named Homer.