Who: Loki and OPEN! What: Dog walking. Seeing the sights. Probably planning something nefarious. When: Thursday evening. Where: Outside of somebody's temple. Rating/Warning: Rated L for Loki.
Loki wasn’t very keen on leaving Sigyn. He preferred to stay close to her, to keep her in his sight, to have the option of reaching out and being able to touch her. With all the time they’d spent together, one would think that he’d crave some time apart, a little privacy, perhaps, the opportunity to collect his thoughts or sit in silence and contemplate his current situation. But, no. Not at all. Loki’s attachment to his wife was a living, breathing thing, a towering, grasping presence that kept him from wondering too close to the ledge, where he might loose his balance and go plummeting into the dark. He craved her attention. He yearned for her day and night, lived for her soothing hands in his hair and for the way she looked at him.
It wouldn’t be for long. He’d be back in twenty minutes or less. Just taking the dog out for a walk. Voluspa needed the exercise, needed to stretch his legs and get in a good feel for his new home. The dog wasn’t used to being cooped up. He wasn’t accustomed to a place like New York City, with all of its strange sights and smells and sounds.
Off in the distance, a siren wailed. It was Loki’s consoling touch to the back of the canine’s furry neck that kept him from throwing back his head and howling in unison. Giving him a good scratch behind one of his ears, Loki whispered something to him and kissed him on the head before straightening back up, leaving Voluspa to sniff at the ground in earnest and pull at the leash as he went along.
The wolfdog led him where he wanted to go, down sidewalks littered with mortals, passed apartment buildings, stores and the occasional restaurant, whose tantalizing odors never ceased to captivate the dog and his insatiable hunger. Once or twice, he’d try to pull Loki off into the wrong direction and in response, he’d tug the leash tighter and steer him back on track. “You don’t even like Indian food,” he muttered, and Voluspa grunted at him as if he understood and vehemently disagreed with his statement.
The pair stopped suddenly. First Loki, and then, feeling his leash go taut, Voluspa.
Another god.
Close, maybe.
In the temple? Could be.
Loki turned to face the building. It was awe-inspiring, really. Imposing. Even the dog felt something when he gazed upon it.
“Fuck.” Said under his breath. In response, Voluspa barked once.