Loki's face scrunched up into the most horrid of looks of disgust possible. Clearly the idea of a dwarf lover, even in jest for a passing night, did not appeal to him at all. “A dwarf? Have you gone mental? How fucked up would that look? No.”
His head was shaking. “We should go find some ladies. But mine will not be a dwarf. She will be pretty, and perky,” crudely, Loki's hands gestured to his chest, “and ideally have nice long legs.” With a big grin, he added an addendum, “and be flexible. The bendy ones are always quite fun.”