Her shelter? Her shelter? It was abso-fucking-lutely not her shelter. It was a cave in the wilds of Midgard. It didnt' belong to anyone. Unless she'd gone and painted herself some frilly fucking sign and hammered it above the mouth that said Sigyn's Home Sweet Home it was not her fucking cave. And her arrogance about it being hers was riling him up again. This woman lived to get under his skin, didn't she?
She'd put an awful lot of work, it sounded, in getting the cave ready to simply spend the night in. If she were smarter she could have used that time wisely and gotten herself back to Asgard and back under Frigg's watchful eyes. Instead she was out here making a nest in a cave.
What. The. Hell.
Then she stormed away from him, claiming it again as hers and Loki could not prevent the malicious thoughts from entering his mind. Following, taking the longest possible strides he could to keep up with if not catch up to her, he fantasized about watching her face plant into the snow and getting covered in it. Then her clothes would be wet and she'd be miserable and she'd complain that she was cold and Loki would you please start a fire, it's so cold and he'd have to oblige her to get her to shut up even though he'd really want her to suffer to teach her a lesson about being a bitch to undeserving people.
By the time he caught up with her, the thoughts grew in intensity. This woman. This impossible, insufferable woman was absolutely infuriating. So he did the only thing he could that didn't involve physically harming her, since he would never physically hurt a woman.
He tripped her. Stuck one foot out mid-stride and tripped her as best he could.
Not waiting to see if she fell or not, Loki smirked and soldiered on through the snow toward the cave. Fuck if he was going to let her get to it first. Bitch needed to learn something about humility.