Now if this wasn’t a sight for sore eyes.
Ikol didn’t need to ask to know--call it intuition, an educated guess, or simply pattern recognition by now--and he assumed she wouldn’t, either. She’d her look and he his. (Although, those horns of his might’ve been the more obvious giveaway between the two.)
“Welcome to Golden Ward,” Ikol greeted her, flashing his teeth beside an immortal cavalier grin. “Judging by the imminent eclipse leading up to your appearance, this is your first time fielding the view, as it were.”
Not that he’d chastise his ilk for being new to the storied city and its marvel mile-wide hole in the ground, of course. Ikol talked as though it might be a pleasant observation.
“I’m Loki. Suppose you could say I’m something of a veteran around the block.”
His eyes shined with everything mercurial as he winked. “Anything in particular you’re searching for?”