Between the cold waters of the crashing waves and an empty cove was where she held reign over the sandy shores, a diminutive picnic for herself and ONLY herself. Loki was too busy, fancifully sipping her cocktail, she looked up briefly, curious, coy and charmingly vindicative.

One glance. One glance was all she needed to figure out the ins and outs of a person. She gently wiped the corner of her mouth... and she smiled. Now leaning more on her deck chair.

Oh... Just - where are my manners? Sit... Please. I encourage you. It would rude to refuse such an offer from one such as myself. I was deathly worried for but a brief moment that you did not choose to come.

She fiddled with her glass, almost playful.

I am perplexed and rightful so- you, you actually answered my delectable and dastardly invitation. Is that obliviousness or trust? Hah. Trust. What a quaint idea. Perhaps, I should denounced myself? Fear, after all, is the price of imagination. Not curiousity.