“Joy.” Her tone was dry, though not exactly bitter. She’d take the feelings moment by moment. Easiest way to stay sane with the situation she’d found herself in.

Not every day one could say the God of Mischief was a pillar of stability. And Valkyrie wasn’t quite ready to admit as much out loud. She slipped the knife back into whatever intimate location it had made its home in, rolling onto her side to face Loki in a leisurely slouch.

“I’ll fancy a nap. Wake me if something exciting happens.”