Prometheus is certainly not wrong. Coming from a culture whose language has remained largely the same for possibly tens of thousands of years, coming back to Midgard after a thousand year absence was culture shock enough the first time, let alone when Thor returned a year later to find that even more had changed in his absence. "I will be googling things all day," he laments, not quite seriously. Though honestly, maybe he should do as Steven had done, carrying a notebook and jotting down unfamiliar things to look up later. But that seems like effort.

It's a relatively small thing that Prometheus is offering, but it means a great deal to Thor. He's lost so many, so much, that even the smallest things are worth clinging to with everything he has. "Thank you. I... I miss her." By the Nine, he is tired of crying all the time, but he can't help it. He smiles anyway, trying to think of better days, happier times. "We've known each other since we were children, you know. Asgardian women aren't s'posed to be warriors but she did it anyway. Have I told you about that?" If nothing else, spending the rest of his friend's visit drunkenly rambling on about his childhood friends sounds a much more pleasant way to pass the time than crying into his beer until he falls asleep.