It was cold out, like it always was in this barren forest. His fingers were chilled past the glove and to the bone as he gripped the stiff straps of his backpack, breath hanging in the air amongst the hard branches. Agent Coulson heard the soft sounds of snow crunching under his footsteps as he trekked carefully through the trees.
The trickster pawed blindly at the ground, trying to feel grab hold of something so that he may figure out where he was… He could not hear the man’s approach, but the vibrations in the floor gave him away. His heart quickened in his chest as the unknown intruder grabbed his shoulders.
Panic rose in him and he quickly pulled away, quickly trying to distance himself from the possible attacker. He scooted away till his back hit a wall, the prince’s brow knitted as he put his hands up in defense. How was he to defend himself when he could not see or hear…?
The god pulled his knees in close, curling up against the floor, trying to hide himself from the intruder. He took in panicked breaths through his nose, his whole body trembling in a mixture of pain and sheer terror…
A soft whine escaped him, a plead.
The agent fell off balance as the other attempted to shake him off, confusion crossing his features. He took a knee steadily, arm outstretched towards the God. Hesitantly, he watched as Loki tried running away, pressing himself against the wall as much as he could. Phil’s brows, too, knitted together.
“Loki,” He said again, softly this time. Slowly, he moved closer to him, hand reaching. His knees brushed up against Loki’s legs as fingertips touched over the God’s cheek gently. “Can you hear me…?”
The crimson that thinly dripped from the tricksters ears proved otherwise. Phil was struck with a pang of hurtful fear. He took his cheek in hand, the other finding his shoulder again.