As soon as the fateful words left the witch’s mouth, his fingers froze around the necklace. “Hey!! You could have said…”- He opened his mouth to protest, just as the crone decided to turn away for another question. Left with only himself to blame, Jagred pressed a hand to his forehead, mumbled a few incoherent curses under his breath. Still, his head was still attached firmly to his shoulders, and just as the crone had said, if he played his cards right, it would probably remain that way. Didn’t sound like a very hard task, because apparently, all he needed to do was to not to ‘misbehave’. Which was exactly what he had in mind when first arriving in this place, simply did whatever that was asked of him and got out. Nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully, stopping the Ragnarok wouldn’t be that complicated. 

 [i]Right. Who the hell are you kidding?[/i]

 All of the sudden, he heard the crone mentioned something about ‘prattling birds’ and immediately, his head jerked up in her direction. Only to find something on her wrinkled lips that might have qualified as a smile. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which one was more disturbing, the fact that he could be decapitate any moment by his necklace, or such a smile could exist on her face. It was confusing at first, the reason for her sudden change in attitude, but just as he turned to look at the door, realization hit.

 It was him.

 Jagred could help but stared at the stranger, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Simple words wouldn’t be enough to do the man justice. There was just something about this man that demanded affection, and Jagred found himself unable to refuse. Beneath the divine beauty, he could sense power, far stronger and older than the witch’s, and yet, far less intimidating. It was rather a strange sensation, both foreign and utterly irresistible. It scared him in an odd sort of way, to find out such power over the mind could actually exist. 

 It took visible effort on Jagred’s part to just focus on what Baldur was talking about. There wasn’t that much information to take in, fortunately, simply details about their upcoming mission, among other things. Like how his father turned out to be Tyr. Jagred wasn’t actually that big on Norse mythology, as the subject only came up occasionally in those courseworks he used to get in highschool, but he knew enough about Tyr. Supposedly, he was the god of justice or law or something, and he sacrificed his hand in the binding of the big bad wolf, Fenrir. The news didn’t really have that much of an impact on him, though. He couldn’t imagine why it should, not when all he knew about Tyr was just a name that came with a story. 

 When Baldur finally took his leave, Jagred let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, his lips pressed into a thin line. So now they were supposed to go get some relics for the gods from the hands of these Frost Giants. He didn’t really know what they were, but anything associated with the word ‘giant’ probably would be far from cute and harmless. Just as soon as he was about to voice his concerns, one of the male from their groups made some remarks about his ‘collar’. Jagred turned to him, recognizing the one that got stabbed from before. His blue eyes narrowed slightly, but otherwise his expression remained passive. 

 Breaking Lucky’s jaws sounded like a good idea at the moment, but Jagred decided against it. They were, after all, expected to work together as a team. 

 [i]Maybe later, when a better opportunity presents itself.[/i] 

 “Of course you do. Might as well be prepared for the next time you steal from blind old women.”- His lips stretched into a slow, careful smile, before abruptly turning to the crows.-“ So we have a mission now. How do we get there? And I do hope you don’t have the intention of sending us in there empty-handed? We are supposed to face down giants here.”