David straightened, his posture returned to its regular rigidity. “Perhaps if I were to meet your mother precisely. I might have mentioned that there is a Loki I am familiar with that I am not particularly fond of,” he reminded him stiffly.
“I see,” he said, lighter once again as the directive informed him the information had been logged. “How are you strange, in the way you are… around?”
“I had… heard of the incident and I am… very sorry of what occurred. There are many doubles of Mother running about and unfortunately they all smell the same so telling you which would be which is somewhat impossible.”
He look up again at David’s question realizing that he had indeed befuddled his wording. “O..Oh, forgive me. Well I am strange in my own existence. I do not think I was ever intended really, so I can only assume I was an accidental keepsake of my mother’s doings. But, really. How many eight-legged horses do you honestly know of other then myself? None.”
David inclined his head. “Thank you, but I do not blame you for being unable to know the difference. I’m sorry for being rude, that was not my intention.”
Nodding, David gave the man’s human form another once-over, deleting further questions about magic. With a faint smirk, he kept a rude comment regarding condoms to himself. He liked Sleipnir, after all. He saw no gain in being uncouth. “That is certainly true enough. It is your uniqueness that makes you so intriguing.” Among several other things, of course, but how could he resist a horse with too many legs?