It isn't hard to follow the sounds of someone puttering around in the kitchen, though Thor absently trails a hand along the nearest wall to keep his bearings. It wouldn't do to walk into a doorframe and have Loki assume he's been drinking, after all.

He hesitates at the doorway, watching his flour-dusted brother and the beast at his side, uncertain of his own welcome. The smile that immediately comes to Loki's face makes his heart ache in his chest, some nameless guilt at war with the relief that Loki's first instinct was not to order him to leave. "Loki, hello. I, um... what are you making?" A safe question, he hopes.