"Hello," Loki purred, taking in the rather interesting sight, and keeping just enough distance between them to be defensive without seeming it. "I can't help but wonder—are you running from something, or is that blade for me? You don't seem like the sort to waste time threatening, but then again…" He looked the man over again. "You don't look quite sane, either."
Sam was stoic. Not really sure of what to make of the man before him, he seemed familar but any previous memories of him would have been lost. Locked away deep inside his head and the key thrown away. When the man mentioned the knife, Sam couldn't help but look down at it; the silver blade was coated with a deep red, leaving tiny spaces of silver that were untouched. "I'm looking for my target." He replies simply. Saying nothing else in return to the questions.
















