"Considering the feasts that we used to have? They would span days after a particularly arduous battle. Many warriors would end up falling asleep where they stood and awaking the next day simply to continue the party," he wrinkled his nose. "Although, I can't say I would recommend it without the staff who have the enjoyable task of cleaning up the messes left behind, especially considering the fact that you've supplied Midgardians with Asgardian ales," he certainly didn't seem unhappy about that - amused more than anything, perhaps a little sentimental that he could have things from his lost home in this new, strange world.
"Ah, see - my progression was crawling, walking, running, turning into snakes," he smirked a little as he started to look through the possessions in the bedroom he'd ended up in. None of it was his but there were some books that were certainly of interest and the broken horn of a helmet all too similar to his, something that he held up to his head to test the length. "Nothing in particular is wrong with his taste, it's just- a little gaudy," he snorted softly. "I wouldn't have kept anything of importance in my bedroom and neither did he, it seems. Or he fled," which in hindsight made a lot more sense.