Is it important?
"But it would be so fun to shear her head once more.” Loki said bitterly, sarcasm thick in his voice. His thumb rubbed against a non-existent scare under his lip, a shiver going down his spine at the thought of that particular punishment. He shivered as he felt the warmth of Baldur’s magic on his skin and walked around the chair to seat himself on the floor by Nate’s feet. He pressed his back to the arm of the chair and leaned his head against it, closing his eyes. “I’d rather you didn’t. Fight. At all.” he said, thinking of ways and plans to keep Baldur far from any enemy weapon.
"I can persuade you not to do it, but I'd much rather you just listened this time." With a soft simle, Nate's fingers twined carefully in Loki's dark hair, combing over his scalp lightly. "I don't anticipate fighting." he said, a breath ghosting over his lips instead of continued words. "I never make it that far, if you'll remember."














