captainawesome1701 | [Because I MISS you idiots]

It's easy to get around when your dad is a god. Originally, he'd come here to check out the radioactive wolves. Maybe talk to them. See if they grew extra heads. That would be neat!

But they haven't. Although, a new, interesting smell has caught Fenris' attention. It's the smell of magic. Or maybe space-time energy. Not really that different, when you think about it. He doesn't know how to differentiate, just that it's a trail to follow for his innate tracking instincts.

So, he follows it, all the way back to the source, a black wolf on a black night, silent as-- OMG, A SQUIRREL. CATCH IT. EAT IT.

Right. Sneaking. Yes. He must be quiet.

On the other hand, he is not the only thing not being quiet. There are other sounds, too, and Fenris is curious, so he heads towards them, wanting to find out who else is tracking the magic. Or the radioactive wolves.

Yeah, so, going on your first Asgardian adventure with your giant wolf of a cousin? Not quite as fun as it sounds. Half the time, Jim's been chasing after Fenris to keep him on track, and the other half, he's spent running after him just trying to keep up.

"Fenris, we agree, no more squirrels, remember?"

Stealth? WHAT STEALTH?

"WHY NO SQUIRRELS?" He actually sounds rather alarmed by this. He doesn't remember making this agreement. They are like furry snacks with gummy, crunchy centers. Why would he agree to no squirrels? He wouldn't. Cousin must be remembering wrong.

"Maybe if you tried one, you would not dislike them."

Locks and doors don't matter to a being like Horus. They're passing things, here now and nothing but dust in the tides of time. A flap of wings and they're only rust and open spaces again.

The snow is numb against his feathers as he sails over the world; Thoth had asked through clicking beak, or so it had been once upon a time in warmer days. There is a door, one without lock and key, one flesh and blood and shuffling coils of mortality make pilgrimage to. It was unattended, and the bearded viking lord had warned that it had been too long so. Chance risked too long not to watch the door. It was cold and wet with nothing to eat, no warmer breezes to drift on, no bright shining orb to watch his progress. He was tireless and could wrap the world in a single flap of wings but still it was long and difficult without the warmth of the life-giving ball in the sky to guide his progress.

Hawks are not meant for snow and ice, and old gods who forget themselves when away too long are not the most efficient of guides.

He finally finds the sack of heat and meat, landing in an unco-ordinated heap of feathers and snow a few feet in front of it. Cold and wet, wet and cold; he shakes himself off, ruffling feathers and hopping in place, then stares up at the manshape and shrieks at it.

"No, Fenris, I really don't want to try a..."

And then there's a giant... thing landing in front of them. He's trying not to be startled, really, but even a lifetime traveling through space and encountering new civilizations on a regular basis and then discovering 'hey, your dad's actually a god and welcome to the family!' doesn't really prepare you for everything.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

Fenris isn't startled. He heard it and smelled it before it landed.

Okay, no, Fenris totally is startled. It's like opening an umbrella or inflating a garbage bag. Still, his urge to defend his pack overrides his urge to run around in panicky circles, so he darts between Jim and the birdthing, teeth bared and ears back, ready to pounce on it if it twitches wrong.

It doesn't smell right. "You are not of Midgard."

He's not that giant; he might be a god but that doesn't mean he's an exceptionally large hawk, it's only the awkward flapping of wings while he tries to figure out how to navigate this frozen water thing that makes him look abnormally sized. Another flap or two and he thinks he's got it. Maybe.

The dog-wolf-thing comes at him and he shrieks at it too, stretching his wings to make himself look bigger. He's not afraid of you. Much. HE IS A GOD.

When he remembers, anyway.

Words. He can make words. He pulls them from the ether and tries to get them out but all that results is another shriek. He can do this. He knows how. Focus. He had a Purpose.

There's a shiver in the air and the bird blinks, and then there's a naked man crouched on the ground and staring at the pair of them with piercing eyes. He pulls in a breath, collects his words, and opens his mouth.

"No. Asgard either. Not like you, wolf-dog."

Right, okay, of course the bird can turn into a human. Okay then.

"So where are you from then?"

"IT'S A MAN!" He feels it's important to point out the obvious, as if his cousin couldn't already tell. He's a little less wary now, though. Shapeshifters are common in his family, so he comes over to sniff at the unusual person, sticking his nose irreverently in his crotch. It's a damn big nose, too. And cold.

"Strange. You smell strong. Like Asgardians, but not."

The noise of protest is really closer to an indignant squawk than any particularly human sound, but that's what happens when you've spent the better part of the past few centuries as a bird. Arms are harder to work than wings, too many joints and things to articulate, but he pushes at the shaggy beast and pulls perpetually skinned knees towards his chest, keeping his legs as tightly closed and as close to himself as possible to prevent a repeat.

"And you smell. Smell and smell with too much hair but it's all wet and cold. Snow men always are."

He glances up and over at the blonde, eyes flicking from one to the other. "Called Horus. Come from the sky. Lived in the sand. Live somewhere else now."

OH MY GOD FENRIS YOU ARE SO EMBARRASSING SOMETIMES.

"Horus? Like... the Egyptian god Horus?"

Finding out other deities are real is probably the least surprising thing so far today. Probably a good sign. And hey, even more a chance of getting to the portal, assuming they manage to work together and not have some weird, ancient blood feud that Jim has no clue about.

"Snow men? There are snow men? Like yetis? Can I eat them? Where are they? Did you see them while you were flying?" Fenris wants to eat these Snow Men! THEY SOUND DELICIOUS. He likes ice cubes! They are tasty and crunchy and stick to his tonguuuueeeee.

Oh, but right. Introductions. He is supposed to introduce himself. He is so bad at remembering manners. He plunks his bum down and swivels his ears back forward. "I am Fenris, son of Loki."

His head tilts, birdlike even with the different shape, evaluating, vaguely suspicious. "Mortal remembers?" There's almost hope; it's the lack of faith that put him in the condition he is now, some days he almost remembers what it was like Before. When he was more than a bird with an ill-fitting human suit.

He shuffles his shoulders like he expects feathers to be there, then shifts and sways and finds his feet; humans stand, long legs, heads reaching for the sky. They don't squat in the dirt or snow. He's unsteady for a moment or so before he remembers where his balance is; it's easier to address the other two this way. If he notices the cold he gives no sign, evidently content to continue in the arctic as he is.

"You're snow men," he offers the Wolf as explanation. "Men of Asgard. Land of snow. No sand, no sun." He's saddened for a moment; a sun god deprived of the sun isn't a very optimistic situation. "Allfather said to meet you. Said would be here. Looking for lost things. Or things lost. Wailing doors. ...He said the door would be here, anyway."

"Jim, son of Thor." There, introductions. And boy, was it still weird to use that title. "I don't remember firsthand or anything, but we were taught about you. Obviously not the whole actual existence thing, but I definitely know your name. So Odin sent you, huh?"

He's keeping an eye on Horus, guessing that the dude isn't used to this form and kinda hoping that he gets used to it soon. It might be helpful if two of them aren't completely useless in this, with Fenris being all... Fenris-y.

THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING FENRIS-Y, OKAY!?

"Asgard has sun." He lifts his nose into the air, as if remembering. "Jötunheimr is the cold place." Not that it matters. Fenris likes it on Midgard better, even if there aren't big enough things to hunt.

Though, he's starting to growl the more people talk about Odin. He doesn't like Odin, and for good reason.

Yeah even if he figures out human limbs perfectly he still won't be much help to you, Kirk, sorry.

The name gains another crestfallen expression, distantly sympathetic. Poor Thor. "Sorry. Very sorry; big loss to everyone. Always cheerful; everyone cried."

But what happened to Thor isn't why he's here. What happened to Thor will happen to all of them, one day. In different ways, but he listens.

"Wednesday knows about the door, knows nobody's watching. No lock, no hinges. Ibis asked. Has his own dead to talk to. Doesn't use his wings."

The Wolf growls and Horus hisses back. Don't hate Wednesday. He Knows Things.

He..... really has no idea how to take Horus' sympathy. He's really not even that close to Thor yet, and he is most definitely not dead yet. But okay, whatever. Back to the task at hand. "So..... should we get going then?"

That hissing earns more growling. Fenris doesn't like being hissed at, and it makes him stand up again, hackles raised. Even on all fours, he's still the height of a man, and that's after he got downsized so he could visit his cousin.

He's so, so ready to eat this thing as soon as Jim says it's okay to do so.

Pantheons are complicated; if Horus was a little more put together he might have had enough forethought to ask which Thor. But he isn't, so he didn't, but there was sympathy! And empathy! It's a step in the right direction anyway.

Ugh this is why he doesn't spend time with the Norse gods. They're all giants. He narrows his eyes and shuffles his feet like he's trying to make himself look bigger, but fails miserably because he doesn't have feathers to fluff and ruffle and all he manages to do is look more shifty. He huffs and stares, then takes a few careful, hesitating steps towards the building.

"We should go. Make sure isn't swallowing itself. Won't talk about Wednesday anymore.

Don't know why Wolf's so angry. Not his time yet but still free. Wednesday's far away. Busy chasing shadows."

No, Fenris, it is not okay to eat our potential allies. Jim reaches out to stroke his cousin's fur - WOW is that weird to think about - to at least try to calm him down a little. "Yeah, let's just get this over with?"

DON'T MAKE HIM BREAK UP A FIGHT BETWEEN TWO GODS THAT ARE WAY MORE POWERFUL THAN HIM. IT WILL NOT END WELL FOR ANYONE. (Mostly him.)

Fenris settles a little when Jim pets him and he snorts, fur not looking quite so stiff. "I do not like Odin. He chained me for no reason."

And that's all he's going to say on the matter. Apparently they're headed to make sure some door doesn't eat itself, which makes no sense whatsoever. Fenris did not know doors had teeth. Maybe that's why it's magic?

He sticks his nose to the ground and trots off, relying on scent, even if the thing he's looking for is straight ahead.

It's okay Jim, you can always put him back together again if Fenris does eat him. It's a thing. Probably. Maybe someone could cut him out of his belly like that story. He lost an eye once; physics doesn't always apply.

Horus blinks and frowns; it's an important mission, not really something to just be gotten over with, but he stretches and flexes his toes in the snow, then stares up at the sky. It would be faster if he flew, but then he wouldn't be able to talk to them. Decisions, decisions. He doesn't talk to people often, doesn't switch skins often.

He follows the Wolf. Walk for now. He can fly again later.

"Sorry." He actually does sound apologetic; no matter what the Wolf might have done, and knowing the other gods it's entirely possible it was something unimportant and small, it's not a kind fate.

"Eat after?"

"Yeah, sure, eat after. You and Fenris can go hunting for squirrels." He'll be waiting for the victory feast in Asgard. Mmmmmmm he's really getting into that part of their life. He follows after the gods, pulling his cloak around him a little tighter and thinking that maybe royal blue isn't the most inconspicuous color, but then again, he's walking with a naked dude and a giant wolf, so maybe blending in with the snow isn't a high priority here.

Fenris can see blue! Did you know that? HE CAN SEE BLUE. So, really, Jim's just gold and gray and blue to him. Blue blue blue. Lots of blue.

Horus is just boringly gray.

"Squirrels!" His tail wags a little and he perks up, looking back at Cousin Jim. "I will share mine with you." Because that's what a pack does. They share the squirrels.

"Squirrels are good," he agrees brightly, watching the patterns their feet make. "Warm and gushing are better than the flat ones but the flat ones are easy. Covered in diamonds, nobody hears them. Already weighed. Everything split. But have to watch for glowing monsters. They like them too."

He pulls a distasteful face; the competition's not exactly fair, not when they're bigger than he is.

Ughhhhhh now he really doesn't want squirrels. "You two go ahead and have fun with those. But thanks for the offer."

The facility is at least in view now, though, so his long weary trudge through the snow is almost up. Thank GOD.

"Why would you want flat squirrels covered in stones? Those do not sound tasty at all." Fenris gives Horus an odd look, wondering what sort of place he comes from that eats rocks. Glowing monsters, though? That's commonplace.

Oh, but look! A building! "We found it!" He's so pleased, he goes bounding off through the snow towards the building, completely forgetting that his two-legged companions can't keep up.

"Easy. Quick. Sad deaths. Deserve attention. Appreciation." And then he giggles, bouncing ahead for a couple steps. Okay maybe the snow is more fun than he thought at first. It flutters around him every time he makes an impact like butterflies and dust.

"Taste like sweetness and slick. Monsters make them taste like trappings of mortality too, but can miss those parts. Easy to see."

If it takes long enough to get to the building he'll even flop down and make a snow angel before then. IT'S LIKE HE HAS WINGS.

Days like this, Jim misses Spock and Bones. At least they never ran off on their own or dropped down for snow angels in the middle of nowhere.

Actually, that'd be Jim's job.

NOW HE'S THE RESPONSIBLE ONE SWEET ODIN'S EYEPATCH.

"FENRIS, WAIT UP!!!" He shouts, and then turns to Horus. "Come on, we'll do snow angels later. And maybe even build an igloo or something."

...Horus makes no sense, Fenris has decided. No sense at all. Less sense than the little man named Clint. He can have his crunchy, stony, mortal-y squirrels. Fenris will have the furry, squishy ones.

He does slow down in his trot, though, but waiting is boring. Waiting means he has to sit and think.

OH, BUT HE HAS A GOOD IDEA. HE WILL CAMOUFLAGE HIMSELF. He flips himself over on his back and starts making his own wolf-angels in the snow, and when he gets back up again, he's covered in white and so, so proud of himself. "You can't see me now!"

Horus glances up at Kirk from his spot on the ground like a small child being told to come to the dinner table in the middle of a game, making a creaky sound of protest before rolling awkwardly back up onto his feet without bothering to brush off the snow sticking to skin and hair. He huffs in annoyance but follows again all the same on light feet, making a concerted effort to keep up with the group.

"Building will still be there. Will be there after mortal has been weighed. Will always be there and never be there. They will always be waiting."

SIGH

"No, Fenris, I can still see you. And I'm sure they're always waiting, Horus. However, I'd like to keep from waiting much longer just so we can make sure it doesn't explode or land in the wrong hands, okay?"

"BUT I AM WHITE, LIKE THE SNOW. YOU CANNOT SEE ME." Then, there's an uncertain pause. "Are you sure?"

Fenris' attention quickly shifts to the other god. "BIRD, CAN YOU SEE ME?"

"Why do you think I'm here?"

There's something almost lucid in the look he shoots Jim, something far too serious and old for the body he occupies, but it's fleeting, only there for a moment before he's walking towards the Wolf with an enigmatic smile.

"Cover it in ice, doesn't take away what it is. I see all."

"Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder if even you know." He's teasing Horus, of course. ....sort of. Anyway, he's gonna keep heading towards the facility and just HOPE the other two follow.

"Oh." Fenris is Rather Put Out. He was really hoping he had discovered the secret to being invisible, like his father, but it's not to be. He just doesn't have magic powers like that. So sad.

It's a sadness soon forgotten, though, in favor of stalking Horus through the snow like he's watching prey.

"Door's open. Nobody watching." Please. He knows why he's here. Mostly.

He doesn't notice the stalking Wolf, at least not at first, only keeps walking, watching the scenery around him.

Right. The facility. Aside from the supposed-to-be-but-actually-not-electrified fence surrounding it, there is absolutely no security for them to get through. Jim figures there's probably supposed to be, but there aren't even other footprints in the snow.

The door is also ripped off its hinges. "Well, that's encouraging..."

"It is!" Fenris replies. "They want us to go in." He wags his tail enthusiastically and trots towards the door with no thoughts whatsoever that it might be a trap. Why would it be? The door is open!

"Welcome party," Horus offers with a small smile before walking towards the door too, just as little concerned about the situation. He has wings, somewhere, all else fails he can get out of the way. Death's much less terrifying when you're friends with the ones in charge of managing it anyway.

"Hey, Fenris! How about you go in first?" Let the giant wolf led the way. Sharper sense, sure, but also because he's got a better hold on this whole Asgardian thing and Jim isn't really keen to test out his boundaries when he just came back from the halls of Valhalla. Sorta. It's complicated.

"Okay!" The fearless (well, in this instance, anyway) wolf barges right on ahead, running through the open door and totally ready to pounce on anything in his way. But... it doesn't seem like there's anything in his way. "It is dark! Do not stub your toe, Cousin!" Silly humans and their lack of night vision.

WHY ARE YOU JUST RUNNING INTO-- well okay fine that's useful at least. Horus follows willingly though, shifting back to hawk because it's easier to navigate and see that way anyway, swooping overhead to make a circuit of the room.

"I'm not gonna stub my- OW!"

Guess who stubbed their toe? He grabs on to Fenris' tail (gently! he doesn't want to start a wrestling match that he SO can't survive) to help guide him through the dark.

"What I wouldn't give for a tricorder right about now... Seeing anything yet?"

"It is dark," Fenris helpfully provides, wagging his tail without realizing that it's probably dragging his hapless cousin around all over the place. "I smell energy. Lots of energy. Strange energy. Not of this world."

Horus just shrieks; it's a big open room. Lots of space. He makes a sweep, finding metal torches set into the walls, and when he lands on one, carefully, a claw triggers a button, causing it to flare to life, bringing a flood of light around it as it turns on with a blue glow and a vaguely ominous hum. He wheels away from it, startled, to return to the rest of the group, perching on Kirk's shoulder. He tries not to dig his claws in too deeply but they're predator's talons; a little bit's unavoidable.

[Because I MISS you idiots]

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