Gods. Gods, gods, gods. The past few months had been... how should he describe them? Horrifying? Exhilarating? Eye-opening? "Mad," the low voice rumbled, caught in his throat somewhere between a growl and a hum. Loki was not annoyed, really; his arms were crossed above and behind his head, his legs kicking out amiably in front of him as he walked, almost like a child. The only thing about his demeanor that suggested he was anything but content was the way his fiery eyes narrowed every now and then at nothing in particular, as if he were battling anger. Finally, he shook his head and grunted.
"Hmph!" A pause, and then, "hmph!" He shook his head again, and fell silent.
They had been walking for only a couple of days, the path thus far pleasant, as far as bandits, ambushes, and whore-traders went. He couldn't count how many had attempted to either rob them of their valuables or capture the two of them and sell them off as prostitutes. The latter had mostly applied to Eisha, he'd noted with more than the usual flare of temper, but she was a capable woman, and the two had dealt with each passing nuisance with ease.
Loki didn't understand it. He'd packed light, didn't think he looked too rich or anything of the sort; then again, elegant armor was a sign of either gifted parentage or wealth, so it made a bit of sense why they had been the target of so many thievery attempts. Aside from that, the valkyrie really was a beauty. His beauty, but that was beside the point.
... even if she wasn't aware of it. How possessive had he truly become over the time they'd spent together? He got a taste of it when the presumptuous Widdershin had boldly declared himself as follower of her. Just his words alone had made Loki wish for nothing more than to grab his head and drive it into the ground, although, at the time, he hadn't understood why. Now, casting her a sideways stare, he thought he did. Maybe.
He debated for what seemed like hours as to how he would strike up a conversation. He knew he didn't need to walk on eggshells, but still he felt it couldn't hurt to exercise caution. The woman had been through so much, and now she was continuing her journey with him, to find his past. As he looked forward again, he recalled her words. Something along the lines of it not mattering who he was, because that didn't define him; what defined him was who he was now. They hung in his heart like a comforting warmth, and he'd been surprised at how affected he had been by them. Just simple words, but so profound.
Finally, when he couldn't bear the silence anymore, he turned his head to speak to her. As he did so, he promptly tripped over a clever rock - the damn thing, it must have thought itself just the bee's knees, sticking up like that - and wobbled, hopped, skidded to a halt several feet from her.
"Aiya! Aiya! Aiya!" he cried, voice hitching in surprise. When he landed safely, he whipped around, staring at Eisha with the bewildered look only an animal could properly muster. A short pause, and then, his voice as incredulous as could be, "Did you see that?!
Somewhere in Ásgarðr, the Æsir were probably face-palming.
Greaved boots stopped on the road as Loki began to hippity-hop like a one-legged pirate who had been tripped. Eisha watched his strange dance in amusement, smirking coyly at her clumsy companion. "I saw it, Loki. That rock got the jump on you, didn't it? That's why I told you not to kick its family around, but you didn't listen, and now you have the rock mafia after you. Tsk-tsk." It was funny. When she first stood before him with her lance pointed toward his throat she had not suspected she would see him again after that, let alone travel with him, and grow a bond with him.