‘’Sire...’’
It was a murmur in the dimness, a soft guilt as Baldr confessed to touching the one thing so close, so distant. His fingers traced over the skin, soft pads barely carving their dents into Loki’s flesh, rising every so often as a new scar revealed itself. Slowly, the stag blindly mapped the coastline of old wounds over the other’s skin.
‘’How did you come by these?’’












