They were in an abandoned warehouse of some kind, filled with crates of tinned food that had long passed their expiry dates and the smell of overwhelming dust and cobwebs filled his nostrils. He sneezed.
All eyes were suddenly on Loki, "what?"
He needed a look outside, but that was not feasible from being stuck in this box with two humans, and Thor.
He climbed a stack of crates to look out one of the giant barred windows which let moonlight shine in. the streets were clear, although this was Roanoke, Virginia, a fairly large centre in the state, so why was everything completely empty?
If one does not learn from the past, then he is doomed to repeat it. He heard his mother's voice in his head, and tried to shake it out. But he did know one thing, it was happening again because he couldn't stop it last time.
MAY 1590
Loki was much younger then, and a little more idealistic. He had joined the colonists when they had first set sail to Roanoke Island in Dare County. The main reason was because he was bored, and the lesser one was that he felt that something funny was going on, and he wanted to check out the tingly feeling in his gut.
Over two years, he watched the colony carefully. He didn't know why he had a weird feeling, but he figured the closer eye he kept on them, the less could go wrong, and then in May, it did anyway.
The ground began to attack people.
Loki knew that the gods of the Native American people were powerful, hailing from Alfheim and having stronger magic than any sorcerer on Asgard or beyond could dream of, but this was not something that the peaceful Light Elves would do; even to protect their people from invasions. He cavorted with them a lot too, and played a few tricks on them. Despite being Loki of Asgard, he was also Coyote, the North American trickster.
He had tried to help, but no matter what spells he used, the rock-warriors kept coming. They were tiny, and would burrow through skin and clothes, consuming from the inside . . .
And he had no way to stop them.