I saw that thrice-blasted horse again this morning. To be more accurate, I saw a small herd of horses. There were four white ones, and from a distance I couldn’t be sure which beast was the miserable wretch who savaged my hand. I’m sure, though, that I would recognize that foul nag if I could look him in the beady, bloodshot eye.
I kept my distance and cloaked myself with a concealing glamour, however. Not out of cowardice, you understand, but because tending the horses was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. The early sun on her chestnut hair and lovely features quite dazzled me.
I have always scoffed at those who prate about love at first sight, but I begin to understand now. I, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, god, warrior, and mighty magician, found myself utterly at a loss.
I might have only one chance to win her, and I suspect my usual tactic of ordering people to kneel and submit might not be the best approach. What in the name of Odin’s eyepatch should I do??