He didn't catch what she murmured to herself, nor was he aware she had been looking at him at all. If he had been Loki would have bee far more diligent about keeping the blanket in place. But since he had been inspecting his trousers, he hadn't been aware at all. Loki just grabbed the blanket and secured it back in place and considered what she had said to him.
Sigyn was right, which he hated to admit. But he had to admit it so that this could move forward rather than stagnate in crankiness. “No,” he conceded. “You are right.” When he finally looked back at her, he was wondering what she was looking at so intently. Him? The blanket had... oh. But he fixed it. So she could stop staring now. Loki wasn't generally modest by any stretch of the imagination, but something about her seeing him bare, even briefly, left him a bit uncomfortable.
Not meeting her eyes, or saying anything further, he sat back down near the fire and looked over at what she was cooking. The wood needed to be turned so the fire didn't go out. Thinking it was probably safe to do so, Loki reached into the fire and adjusted the wood so that it burned more evenly, slower and warmer. If they got a decent enough coal bed going, it would give off quite enough heat while they slept without needed to put more wood on the fire.
As soon as his hand retreated, he brushed it off with his other and sighed, watching the flames dance and listening to them crackle. Loki was kind of weird about silence, unless he was trying to sleep. Had he been alone, he probably would have whistled, hummed or sang something to fill it. That kind of wasn't an option right now because he wasn't alone. He supposed he could go back to reading. Or he could go get his wineskin of mead back from where he had tossed it to Sigyn and get himself drunk enough to just drown everything out -his thoughts and so forth, and sleep.
Maybe he should try to sleep now instead of suffer the quiet.