dancers to a discordant system

His vibrant green gaze was deeply skeptical as he examined the female. If she was sent by Víðarr, why was it that she could speak? Was his mind simply playing tricks on him again? It felt more likely that it was Loki, sent to deceive him and to test his faith to the gods he had sworn himself to. His gaze widened as she spoke.  "Do you mean to imply you have been sent by Hel herself?" he'd snap accusingly, his nose wrinkling. This strange girl, with her pink markings and white coat, was certainly not a minion of Hel's. The ruler of the underworld would not choose this bright, chipper girl as one of her followers. He found himself frowning deeply at her, though a spark of recognition flashed in his eyes when she began to speak in his native tongue.

"Fassen Sie mich nicht an!" he'd spit suddenly, reeling away from her touch with fervor.  "I come of my own accord, serving the gods that have given me life." His gaze was skeptical still, and he found himself jerking further from her. His vision seemed to waver even more, his jaw unhinging slightly as he found a slow drip of saliva falling from his jaws. "What is your purpose in coming to me, Frau?"