#tasersandcoffee

He chuckled and nodded. "I am glad you worry about my growing ego, lady Darcy". Honestly, he felt incredibly tired and, while he healed as fast as any other Aesir, there was a need for a soft bed and rest. "I would like to think yes, but I know better. Would you help me?"

Long, thin fingers wrapped around her pulse. He could feel it, her pulse quickening. She meant her words, it was palpable under her skin. The perks of being blind, he thought. He felt more deeply than others did. "Blood", he said out loud, as he thought about the precious liquid. "There is nothing... quite... like the smell of it", he mused, his grasp tightening as he pulled her close, his voice of a eery calm. "Have you ever smelled it? Stale blood across a battlefield?"

Hodr sighed, relieved. "Good, because my ego was about to explode from all the grandeur of my fake story telling", he replied, smiling. However, at the touch of her fingers, the god flinched a little, his smile dying down a bit, but not completely disappearing. "It's quite alright, lady Darcy. Tis nothing I haven't gone through before...", he admitted. "I would like to lay down however."

"However, I was serious about the stomach part, so...". Hodr stood up and pulled out his shirt with ease, his slender figure appearing and, with it, a small number of hematomas across his stomach and sides. Being blind and outnumbered made close quarter combat harder.

Patrick was deep in his memories, thinking about the last time he had danced with his wife. He wasn’t listening for anyone, but jumped in surprise when he felt someone’s arms around him. He relaxed a little when he realized it was Darcy. “Of course,” he mumbled, putting his arms around her before resuming his dance.

"Dozens, I would say", he replied, greatly exaggerating the real amount of people he fought. It was nice to feel that someone cared and also, although he would deny it, he was feeding his own ego a little bit. "Stomach. Got punched quite a lot."

Yes.