“I am not always unreliable,” he replied, his voice scratchy with sleep. He pushed himself upright and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree that had sheltered them.
“I’m not sure how much time I have left,” he commented as he watched the leaves flicker in the breeze.
It took a minute to process that in a not-entirely-awake brain. “Are they likely to know to look here? Here here, I mean, not here Asgard.” She lifted a hand and ran it along his leg, musing. “How big is Asgard, then? We could get pretty lost in these forests, I should think, though food and shelter might be a problem.” She cocked an eye up at him. “Are you capable of roughing it, my lord?” Summer teased.
“Roughing it?” he repeated, turning the plan over in his mind. Hiding in the forest right beneath the eyes of those looking for him. Both degrading and terribly ironic all at once. He liked it.
“You may be surprised to find I am quite skilled at survival,” he offered with a smile.
She laughed, putting her face against his knee. “Survival, yeah, I get that. Otherwise I suspect that smart mouth would’ve gotten you killed before now.” After a moment, she said, “You didn’t answer my questions.”