"Maybe, or, he may just spook you. He's pretty grimm at times." Loki didn't know if she would appreciate Poe or not. Without a doubt the man could twist a rhyme. The pining after his much, much younger cousin was a little on the disturbing side, then again, so was writing about a heart under the floorboards.
The sudden jump in her mood, that gave off a note of agitation, made Loki's brows perk. Either he'd assumed far too much about her, or Elsa didn't enjoy being presumed to be the kind young creature she appeared to be. What or what had she done to make her so angry with the association. He'd bet his sword it had something to do with her magic.
"God of Mischief." He pointed to his temple, the horned crest over his brow clinking lightly as his fingernail tapped it. "I actually know quite a bit about you already, given all you've told me over the network, your posture, how you think carefully about certain answers before giving them, and...hiding something you don't want me or possibly the rest of this place to see. But it's very difficult to lie to me, Elsa, so--please don't take it to heart or assume that I don't think you're more than meets the eye."
The would be God shrugged lightly, not really wanting such a cast away comment to dictate the rest of their walk or her mood. Obviously, it bothered her for a reason. "For another, there are others I know here. They are far too righteous for eternal damnation."