Slay. Troy was privy to a lot of information about Asgard and shit, but there were a hell of a lot of letters coming and going between the kings and queens of the realms lately... Ravens, owls, magic, centaurs. The usual forms of delivery. The much-treaded path that the Natives had turned into one of their new favorite trails was where Troy was meandering when Orrin's heavy feet made deep thudding noises in the ground. It was nearly lunchtime, so Hemlock had been heading back to the palace after making his rounds in the grounds of the palace forests. "You trying to sneak up on someone?" Troy asked the much taller being with a grin on his face and his arm back as if he were about to draw one of his arrows. It was obvious by the satchel that Orrin was making a delivery. "You want me to take that to Thor?" He assumed it was for Thor. He also knew Orrin wouldn't fork whatever he was bringing over. Troy's arm fell again. "How you been, man? It looks like they're keeping you busy," said the kettle to the pot. Shit didn't want to grow in Helheim, Nate, for the last time!