Kurda's head broke the surface in a cold, wet, noisy burst of sensation. He was startled and gasped, sucking in a lungful of water and immediately spluttering in reaction. Firm hands gripped his wrists and dragged him onto dry land. He curled into a naked, shivering ball, coughing water from his lungs, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, trying to make sense of the cascade of information his senses were sending to his brain.

"Welcome back," an unfamiliar voice purred.

It was a moment before Kurda had the strength or will to open his eyes, but when he finally managed to ease his eyelids apart he could just make out a blurry shape in the haze of his vision. As his sight cleared he could pick out more detail – the person was male, slender, with shoulder length black hair, he was wearing an emerald green traveller's cloak over a black shirt and a green and gold scarf hung loosely about his neck.

Kurda was panting, having to force himself into a breathing pattern because his body seemed to have forgotten how to. He felt dizzy and confused and completely overwhelmed.

The stranger crouched beside Kurda and placed a cloak around his shoulders, "Take a moment. Catch your breath."

"…Wh….Who … are… y..you…?" Kurda rasped, pulling the cloak tightly to his body.

"I am Loki," the stranger replied, and Kurda looked up and saw him grinning.