[Uncle Thor! Uncle Thor! Why don't you just ask to ride him to Midgard since the Bifrost is dead? He'd be happy to!
Except, well...one of the Moms said not to and also said he was disappointing and that made him sad. Kind of. He's a bit of a dunderhead, which is why he likes Uncle Thor...and which is why he's totally going to lean down and lick his face.
It's okay, right? His saliva has to have healing qualities or something. It won't mess up his hair, at least.]
[INSERT ANCIENT GERMANIC WORD FOR MOTHER RIGHT HERE]
He is so excited it's not even funny. It's just downright strange, an eight legged monster god horse prince being so excited that he's just running right over to get in his mom's face for all the petting and love
[One wouldn't think it difficult to say something chastising to an eight-legged monster horse god creature showing entirely too much enthusiasm at the sight of him. And yet for some reason, Loki's acidic, usually barbed tongue is still and silent.
After a moment, he holds out a hand, gleaming red apple resting in the center of his palm.]
Greetings, Slepnir.
[And then, because no one's watching, he gives his son a smile and a brief stroke of his fingers along his mane.]
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