Arc I: Midnight
Loki watched the young Midgardian girl as she shot the archer's bow. Her skills were dismal, but the archer sought to improve them. His brow furrowed. It had been a few days since the unsatisfactory end of their conversation and Loki was still brooding. He couldn't understand his own frustration over the girl's answer. Was it because she was wrong? His eyes studied her.
No, he mused. Perhaps it is because her answer reflects my own.
Loki knew the passion and pride she held for her country's politics. Perhaps… He shook himself from his reverie. It was useless to dwell.