He stepped out of the shadows, equally disoriented and more wary, but that hardly mattered when he glimpsed her. They'd just had one of their conversations in his cell. He knew they were forbidden by Odin, but she'd found a loophole. He had to learn the art somewhere.

He frowned as he noticed the wound, the anger that had been brought to the forefront to cover all his despair surfacing. Anger let him stay strong; despair was weak and sentimental. Vulnerable.

"What happened to you?" He demanded. Because someone would pay; it was clear on his face.