Re: Slay.
"I get it, Mighty Ducks." Troy joked and knew it would fly in a V over Orrin's head, but Vanaheim was dumbly close to Anaheim. Or the other way around, really. Either way: "I'm aight. Just out here doin' the Lord's work." No, he was doing Nate's work. And rounds. There were samples in his satchel of Asgardian and Midgardian flora that he was going to test in the Helheim soil he'd been so graciously... gifted. Berf. Anyway, "Yeah, Helheim was a bitch. Working on rebranding it now. Nate the Great asked me to try and get some new vegetation to transplant down there but everything hates that dirt. I mean, I can't blame it." His powers (and trio magic) allowed him to feel the history of the soil; the life of it. Super nasty.
So was that smell. His nostrils flared after the wind shifted. Aw man. "Probably a deer. Strong stomach?" he questioned Orrin after he began to step off the beaten path and head toward the smell to make sure shit was fine. He found a dead fairy once. The things that had fed on it were super fucking high.