Nakres: The satisfaction gained from life's gifts; proud pleasure, especially in one's children or grandchildren and their successes, however small.
"One," Loki says, holding up a brightly coloured block with a big blue 1 painted on it.
"One!" Modi chirps. Loki smiles, pats his head, gives him the block and sternly tells him not to try to stuff it into Jory's mouth again, the baby snake does not like that very much. Jory has curled himself over Modi's shoulder and flicks his tongue curiously at the block Modi sets down in front of him so he can look at it too. The vivid colours hurt his eyes, and he turns away.
"Two," Loki says, showing Modi and Jory the yellow block with the red 2.
"Two!" Modi shouts, clapping his hands and giggling as Loki stacks it on top of the 1 with a smile.
"Three."
"Twee!"
Loki laughs, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Modi's hair. The baby had managed to develop some semblance of control over his colouring, and enjoyed turning his hair and eyes all manner of colours. Today, it was a bright red, one that reminded Loki of Thor's cape. Thor had given up trying to keep track of all the different shades and rainbows that spilled through their son's face.
"Oh, look at you, you're so smart!" Loki exclaims, cuddling Modi in his arms. Jory, from his position on the floor, examines the blocks carefully, squinting his eyes to see past all the bright hues.
He hisses once, twice, thrice, spitting mildly corrosive venom onto the carpet, and Loki only smiles at him and pats his head as well, taking care not to let his sleeves dip into the puddle of poison on the floor.