When the young female rose, pelt bristling and spitting venomous words at him, Loki's flirt train came to a screeching halt and he mentally backpedaled rapidly as he attempted to search his memory for something he may or may not have done to draw this wolf's ire. No, no, he was pretty sure he'd never met this wolf before in his life. Someone she was related to, then? Sister, brother, father, uncle, cousin twice removed.. mother? Uh oh. Wait.
His smile, still held in place up until this very moment, slipped a little. A yearling wolf, who just happened to have remarkably similar coloration to him, with a build and pattern that would not be unheard of for his genetics to produce, who he'd never met but apparently knew him and held a grudge... If there were any gods out there let them be kind and have this be one of his brothers' bastards and not his. No, no, no. Stupid theory. It was much more likely that the wolf had heard of his reputation, which he was sure had probably spread by now. Maybe.
"I'm sorry, have we met?" he asked cautiously instead of voicing any one of the million stupid questions swirling in his skull at the moment. "My name is Loki. And you are?"
"Speech"
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