Blaze and Ghost will probably pass Loki's cabin now and again as they patrol the Wilds. It's at the edge, close enough to the Plaza that the AV field is thin but not necessarily inactive, and easily bolstered by Loki's shielding. No one will bother them, either way. The symbol of the twin-horned helmet and Asgard's royal crest on the door may clue them in as to who lives there, but aside from a redheaded girl peering through a window once, no one will take notice.
But Loki knows who passes close to his wards, and sooner or later he's bound to seek them out.
They probably weren't looking forward to encountering Loki in any form, but even if so, chances are this is not one they'd have expected. It's mid-morning when a whistle comes from the side of the path they're traversing, and looking up reveals a slender feminine form in white and green, perched in the bottom branches of a tree. The woman appears to be picking early summer apples, and she is not alone. Two others--a redhead who looks little more than a teenager, and a younger girlchild in a violet and gold dress--are higher in the tree. The redhead is picking. The little one is mostly eating.
"Blaze, Ghost," the woman calls in greeting, and drops to the ground to walk toward them. Barefoot and in long skirts, she looks like she stepped out of a John William Waterhouse painting.
"Hello. It's Loki," she says mildly. She's not in the mood to play games with her identity today, but she might just be curious to see their reaction.
somewhere in the woods--no major agenda here, just reminding them Loki exists
But Loki knows who passes close to his wards, and sooner or later he's bound to seek them out.
They probably weren't looking forward to encountering Loki in any form, but even if so, chances are this is not one they'd have expected. It's mid-morning when a whistle comes from the side of the path they're traversing, and looking up reveals a slender feminine form in white and green, perched in the bottom branches of a tree. The woman appears to be picking early summer apples, and she is not alone. Two others--a redhead who looks little more than a teenager, and a younger girlchild in a violet and gold dress--are higher in the tree. The redhead is picking. The little one is mostly eating.
"Blaze, Ghost," the woman calls in greeting, and drops to the ground to walk toward them. Barefoot and in long skirts, she looks like she stepped out of a John William Waterhouse painting.
"Hello. It's Loki," she says mildly. She's not in the mood to play games with her identity today, but she might just be curious to see their reaction.