Sif & Thor; Engagement
Thor moved quietly alone one of the many beautiful balcony paths around the castle, admiring the beautiful view of the city. He sighed softly, his long strides even and slow. When he was not looking to the scenery he was looking at Sif, back and forth, back and forth. It was clear he was thinking of something, nervous, and he was not good at hiding his thoughts. They weighed, heavily, within his blond head and nothing seemed to lighten the load.
Though his shining armor had disappeared in that fantastical way, cape reduced to nothing, Thor still wore an Asgardian tunic and fitted trousers. Often, his hands ducked into his pocket and then removed themselves. Mjolnir swung at his hip but even it seemed off-tilt for the god. Something was up. Something wore upon his thoughts and not yet two steps up a staircase to the next level did the man stop and look at Sif. He stood there, quietly clenching his fists, thinking, debating. Fine.