Making her way out the gate and onto the road Emmajane settled into a quick trot while keeping hold of the two ponies. Her dog Cu joined the party letting out a yelp. Grey clouds lightly covered the sky and a light mist descended on the dark soil, a typical December day in Ireland. Soon she turned down onto the familiar track. It was St. Stephen's day so none of the usual dog walkers or joggers were out, it was just the four contented animals following their tatty leader. After a few minutes of quick riding she reached the end of the road and dismounted. Unclicking the pony's head-collars she watched as they galloped off into the field, snorting and flicking their tales. The two spoilt ponies bucked and reared proudly but her motley mount rolled on the long grass, covering his coat in mud.

She turned to begin her walk home and it was only then she realized that Cu wasn't following her any longer. She cursed under her breath and whistled. After many calls the terrier came to her. Reaching down to scold him she saw he had a glove in his mouth. Examining the rich black leather with gold embellishing she was curious. The glove wasn't dirty or torn. It was obvious that it hadn't been exposed to the weather for long and quite frankly it was the most exquisite thing Emmajane had ever seen. Sitting on a stone wall she took off her own riding glove and placed it on top of her new discovery. Emma had long slender fingers and her hands were not too tiny, but in comparison to the black gloves her hand appeared dwarfed.

Her curious nature made her want to find the owner of the garment. Apparently Cu was thinking the same as he pranced around her feet, eager for her to follow him to where he found the glove. Contrary to what her common sense was telling her she followed her little friend off the path and through dense scrub. Even though she had rode The Dead End a hundred times she had never ventured off the beaten track before. Weaving between the old trees that lined the countryside her stomach clenched in angst. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye a rustle in the bracken caught her attention. Venturing closer she pushed aside brambles and thistles to find a man strewn on the ground. She clamped her hand over her mouth to conceal a gasp and rushed to his side. She tried to feel for a pulse but to no avail. With very little choice left she lay her head on his chest, attempting to hear a heartbeat and was relieved to find one. "Hello?... Can you hear me?" she said softly as she patted his cheek, trying to evoke some response. The man was still unmoving but for the first time Emmajane noticed his appearance. He was tall. Even lying down she could tell he was far taller than her five feet ten inch stature. His black hair was almost shoulder length and his skin was the colour of ivory. He wore peculiar clothes that appeared to be a mild sort of armour. Then she noticed his hands. On one was the partner of the glove in her pocket, the other was bare and scratched. A pang of pity hit her and she brushed a lock of raven hair from his brow. He began to stir then and as his eyes fluttered open, Emma was taken aback. The strange man possessed the greenest eyes she had ever seen and it only took a second for them to meet her own steely, cobalt ones. "Hi. Are you okay?" she asked meekly. He stared at her for a time and gave no answer. Confused she tried asking in Irish. "Dia duit. Ar bhuil tu go maith?"

"I understood you the first time midgardian." He replied. "Sorry... how long have you been here?" she asked, relieved that her broken native tongue was not needed. "That, I cannot be assured of." The man answered, getting to his feet and pulling himself up to his full height. Now she was staring up at him feeling like a small child. He was undeniably very handsome. He held himself like royalty and his angular features were nothing short of aristocratic. "Well I don't feel it right to leave you here... will you come back to my house for tea?" she asked hardly believing she had just invited a perfect stranger to her house. "I suppose that will suffice. I believe I have not introduced myself. I am Loki" he said extending his hand "A pleasure to meet you Loki, I'm Emmajane but you can call me Emma" she stated placing her hand in his, expecting to shake it. However he brought it to his lips and kissed her painfully pale skin. "Oh my no! A name as pleasing to the tongue does not deserve for a single syllable to be omitted," he purred, making the young girl blush. "Now where are your lodging's?"

After a near silent walk back to the yard they turned in the gate. On the way back Cu had made his distaste for Loki apparent, and indeed it appeared the feeling was mutual. Cu had growled and snarled all the way and Emma was sure she had seen Loki give the little dog a kick of his boot when he thought she wasn't looking. Thankfully the yard was empty as everyone else had communed in the tack room for lunch. Opening the door to the cottage Cu burst in and made himself a nest on the couch. "Here we are," Emma said. Loki strode in and surveyed his surroundings. "Plain..." he sneered at the white walls and old tiled floor. "Well on a grooms salary this is practically a palace!" she mumbled. At this he snorted, as if it were a private joke. She brushed it off as just another strange layer to this odd man. "Tea?" she asked. "Why, yes. Strong...black." he answered coming back to his senses.