The ice melted enough for me to keep my long-deferred appointment with Gunnehilde.
What a venal hag she is! Her customary frown turned into a gap-toothed leer of unfeigned avaricious delight when she saw what I had brought her as payment. I swear I saw a trickle of greed-drool. (I know, I know, there will be just a bit of trouble with the Midgardians over what I found to bring, but who *cares* whether they are annoyed?)
So now the valiant black steed is mine! What a noble-looking creature he is, and not half so bad-tempered as his white brother. I shall have to think of a good name for him. I’m leaning towards Svaðilfari…
But even the horse could not hold my attention for long when I beheld my beautiful Sigyn. I greeted her. She responded demurely. I asked if she would meet with me. After Gunnehilde (the old bat!) nodded, she sweetly agreed. How dulcet her voice! How rosy-blushed her cheek! All too soon, she was whisked away by her sister. (I do hope that she-wolf allows my dear Sigyn to have some of the treasure for her own. I shall be sure to bring her a gift when we meet!)
My face feels very odd. I may have broken something. Oh. It’s a smile. I know who put it there! If I am not careful, I shall turn into the biggest moon-calf that ever there was. (If Thor hears about this and makes kissy noises, I shall turn him into a rotten turnip and pitch him in the compost bin. Grrr. See? I am still evil and heartless!)