Following Our Own Script

Chapter Four

Heimdall switched his focus to the bushes around him. The plants were thick as they were in Vanaheim. Water droplets pooled together, shimmering like glitter in the sunlight. The jungle around them was lush green. The heat was manageable, more uncomfortably humid than anything else. Heimdall had no complaints. Anything was better than the freezing rain. Wildlife was well-hidden, but between the two of them, no creature was safe.

Most creatures resembled those from Midgard. Rodents, birds, reptiles. Nothing stuck out as too jarring. The rabbits had longer ears, the birds sounded different than those from home, and the reptiles had glowing eyes. They reminded him of his own. But regardless of these differences, they could be killed just the same. Perhaps some animals existed across the pantheons.

The only truly bizarre creature they had come across was already killed. It resembled a squirrel but was as large as a pup. What looked like a third arm stretched from its stomach. An arm had formed, but did not look like the others. The skin was loosely reflective, covered in a rough coating. More bizarre was the foot itself being talon-like. A birth defect, they had tossed it up to be. They left it alone past the initial intrigue.

The only true annoyance came from small bugs that were clinging to Loki's sweat. Heimdall put distance between himself and the brat to keep from a mouthful of insects.

Another perk of being Heimdall was his lack of excessive perspiration. Truly, a sunning God. The half-breed, on the other hand, stunk. He carried a youthful musk to him that, on its own, might have been charming. But his general filthiness mixed with sweat gave off a wet dog stench.

"Open your heart to their suffering," Heimdall said. "Those were the wise words of your old man, were they not? Do you apply that to every living being?"

"I guess so."

"And that works for you? Be an empath and bam, you can do no wrong?"

"Of course not. We own our actions, and are aware of the effect they hold. It's a way to remind us to do the right thing."

"The right thing? For you, for the many, or for each other?"

"I don't have all the answers, alright? We just try to be better."

Their broken ideology amused him. The world wasn't black and white, which they both knew. But simply saying they wanted to 'do the right thing' made Loki's look on the world sound like a fantasy. Many times, there is never an answer that would bring complete peace. Sacrifices were part of natural selection. Acting above the possibility that every action causes the most amount of grief was foolish.

"Be true to yourself. That's my interpretation. Yourself happens to be childlike, thoughtless, and impulsive. It carries an innocent kindness to it."

Loki stopped moving. He looked towards Heimfall in confusion. "Thank... you?"

"Not a compliment. It means you can't make mature decisions. You don't have any idea what 'good' is to anyone but yourself. Say all decisions lead to catastrophe. What then?"

"You tell me. Stop hounding me on all of this if you aren't going to offer any advice."

"Here I thought you were my moral advisor. I'm just asking questions to become a, what is it, a better version of myself?"

"You never answered me before." Loki changed the subject, walking ahead of Heimdall. Heimdall strolled back up beside him, walking backwards as they talked.

"I haven't answered a lot of your questions. Be more specific or I'll start rambling them off. We can start with, Heimdall, what do breasts feel like?"

Loki grunted. "I never asked you that."

"Out loud, you haven't."

"Have you ever been in love?"