The servants quickly shuffled in, none meeting Thor's gaze. They slid a hood over the warhorse's eyes and muzzle, blinding the already unconscious creature. Once he was bound and blind they used a pungent liquid to rouse the beast. Sleipnir bellowed, legs kicking uselessly though less in an aggressive manner and more in desperation. Several servants had to help him to his feet, causing the warhorse to groan in shame. He knew it was not Thor who helped him to his feet, and he did not speak any further. His head hurt already from where the bridle bit into him and his body ached from the shock of lightning. The only sound he made was a groan of defeat as his head lowered and powerful shoulders seemed to sag slightly. A servant took the reigns of the creature and walked him toward Thor.
When the servant looked up at Thor, the boy was seemingly alight with excitement. It was the first time anyone other than the Allfather or Thor had touched the legendary animal. Though he seemed happy to lead the animal toward its keeper, the servant was at least cognizant of his place enough to expect nothing further. Despite that he could not boast to have ridden or lead the creature, he would forever tell tales of the day that he touched the blood-stained midnight coat of Odin's powerful steed. The servant quickly schooled his expression to hide his excitement and held the reigns out to Thor. "Here you are, my lord. Calm as a kitten now, thanks to your might." The servant said with a grin but jumped slightly when Sleipnir's head jerked as if trying to dislodge the hood. The servant quickly moved out of the way, careful to remain a safe distance from the warhorse, lest all his plans of fireside tales pass to another describing his bloody trampling.
Sleipnir's hooves moved restlessly, his teeth gnashing at the bit digging into his lips. Despite all of his aches and pains he protested no further, there was no point in it. He did not know what Odin had planned for him, after all this time. Perhaps he too, would be banished to some forgotten realm. Perhaps, like Nari, he would be torn asunder as a weapon against his father. At this point he had no idea how far Odin would go. The shame of shuffling like an awkward colt to what might well be his doom was enough to make the warhorse shudder with unfulfilled rage.