Preferring his own company and the solitude his own chambers, or even the library had once provided, Loki still couldn’t understand what Midgardians liked about being so crowded. It was true he hadn’t seen all of the realm, only a small percentage, but New York was like an ant nest. People were everywhere, scurrying off in all directions, some clearly with a destination and a time limit in mind, while others dawdled aimlessly as though in some sort of daze. These were the ones Loki liked the least. Already he had been pushed, shoved, jabbed, and nearly knocked over by these insolent mortals! If only they knew just who it was they were jostling.<br/><br/>Just as Loki had turned back from nearly snarling at one of such people, Loki felt a sharp jab to the side. Stopping, he turned on the individual responsible for it, ready to treat them to an equally sharp tongue when he paused. This one had also stopped instead of rushing off and pretending nothing had happened, and they were apologizing?<br/><br/>“That is...quite alright. Though I would refrain from doing such things too often. You never know who you might be jabbing.” He replied, aware that they were both now blocking the sidewalk, forcing the sea of people to part around them. Why had he not shouted? Or made some barbed comment or snide remark? Maybe it was simply the shock of a Midgardian actually showing some manners. Or maybe the god of mischief was looking to see what he could stir up.