Does Thor know what he means? One eye is one eye, right? Doesn't matter how many you started with, it's still out of the norm for a typical healthy Asgardian. He's a little confused at Prometheus' response, but quickly decides it doesn't matter, and just smiles back at him. "Oh yeah? Not much of a vacation if he's working though, is it?"

If Steropes wants to lend a hand, of course, there's never a shortage of work in Asvera. Not that Thor tries to think about that, with how unhelpful he himself has been so far. Sure, he got them land to call their own, but since then... it wouldn't be inaccurate to say he's been drifting.

He doesn't think about that now, either. Right now, in this moment, his only concern is more mead. And more conversation, preferably that doesn't have anything to do with all the awful shit that's been dragging him down. "What, like, physically?" he asks, frowning too. "Nope. Plenty people used to believe in, but it's all stories. Like I used to be." It's weirdly funny, in hindsight, and he chuckles at the thought. It's strange how quickly Midgardians forget. Or... maybe it's not. Asgard forgot Hela, after all. His frown returns, and he tips up his glass to empty it again.