"Well, I wouldn't kiss him," Ikol said dryly. "The last time you came near his face in a dream, you cut his eyes out."
"Was seeing secrets," Loki offered, as though that explained the why in that particular dream. He seemed just fine cowering behind Damian. Truthfully he was not a brave soul. Sometimes one that scampered to help despite fright, but he didn't deny his own cowardice. He only had his moments. This was not one of those moments at all.
When the books started flying off the shelves, it was doubly not so. Loki raised his arms as they started randomly flying his way, cringing behind Damian. Then he ran, fleeing quickly. He didn't even seem to hear Ikol's admonishment. "Damnation, some of these are antiques!" He started to fly after Loki as he skid into the hall and rushed on. "Water! Ice water. Trust me when I say fire won't do the trick!"