In his lifetime, Thor has heard of plenty of kinks, but turning into an ant is a new one on him. He coughs on a mouthful of mead, nearly swallowing it wrong when he goes to laugh incredulously, and thumps his metal hand against his chest until it goes down right. “Seriously?”

Yeah, on hearing this story, Thor’s not surprised that Hera is grumpy either. “And she still stays with him, knowing that?” Though if he knew that Hera’s wrath tends to get directed at the poor mortals and the like that Zeus seduces, rather than her horny husband, he’d have other questions, probably ones that Prometheus couldn’t answer. Either way, he thinks it’s a damn good thing that Prometheus tends to stay the hell away from that side of his family.

Sleipnir is a far more familiar topic, and Thor nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Father always told us that he was a gift when he first took the throne, presented by some dignitary from another Realm. Maybe that’s true, I dunno. I know he had Sleipnir when Hela was still conquering worlds, I saw it on a mural in the palace,” he adds, a troubled frown on his face before he shakes his head. “He was unique, one of a kind. Loki always figured if horses prayed to anybody, it’d be Sleipnir.”