Thor barks out a laugh at the tremor that ripples across the ring, and the shift in mood from the titanic presence looming over him, like a cat deciding it's done toying with a mouse. Excellent.

He beats a hasty retreat, buying time and space to think through his next move, and grins when he sees Prometheus take a lower, sturdier stance. More stable, using his breadth to present a greater roadblock to Thor's avenues of escape, but escape is not his next move.

Thor doubles back, boots pounding the dirt as he picks up speed and makes a mighty leap at Prometheus' forearm, planning to use it as a springboard to launch himself further upward and land an uppercut punch to the titan's chin, trading the surer footing of the low ground to risk a decisive strike.