As his father feigned disappointment, you could practically see Sleipnir's horse ears flatten against his head. It wasn't until he heard a hint of sarcasm that he recovered. For a moment there he thought his father wasn't proud of him at all.... 'It still gets a little shaky, but it works nonetheless.' Sleipnir thought, projecting his thoughts into the other's mind to show what he meant.
He winces inwardly as he perceives that his attempt at lighthearted banter had fallen so spectacularly flat, and he makes a mental note to stick to gentle sincerity — at least for the time being, while he and his son rediscover each other’s mannerisms and peculiarities. He had long since decided that he would not inherit the sins of his late ‘father’ — and so if Sleipnir doubts his mother’s approval, then Loki is doing something wrong.
~So it does,~ he replies, letting his own voice echo cleanly in the outer reaches of Sleipnir’s mind. ~And you are young, my colt… developing the skill to its full capacity will only require a bit of practice. Perhaps a bit more tutelage…~
He trails off for a moment, and tilts his head in gentle appraisal. “Speaking of which… did you learn how to do those things yourself?” He asks mildly, “or did you have instruction?”
