What is it the Midgardian children sing? “Sigyn and Loki, sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Well, not kissing, but sitting, surely. Once again, I find myself spending an arboreal afternoon.
Some months back, Sigyn admired the blossoms on the the hawthorns and made me sit in one with her. It was thorny and poky and undignified then, and it’s just as uncomfortable and silly now. The blossoms are gone, but I shall exercise a little patience and hold off blasting this tree into charcoal until the fruits are ripe. They’re still hard and green, but I hear they’re tasty later.
And if I sit here long enough, perhaps Sigyn will kiss me…