It wasn't the first time he'd slipped away. Loki had a distinct fascination with the mortal realm and the short-lived humans who populated it after all. And this area, mountainous and full of trees, creeks, secret places was close enough to settlements that he could both indulge his own wild nature as well as curiosity. So the Bondurant's land had been host to him before, but aside from the usual snares, easy enough to dodge, it was generally safe.

At least usually. Today was the exception to the rule, the one that found him trapped in the jaws of a particularly nasty trap, fuzzy tail boldly bottle-brushed as he twisted to try and get a better angle to see just what the damage was.

The size of the teeth meant it was likely down to his fae heritage that he hadn't lost the paw that had been snared, but until he got loose that wasn't a very comforting thought. Debating tracing where the chain was anchored to dig the whole thing loose, his ears pricked immediately at the sound of someone approaching, white belly low to the ground as he went still, luminous green gaze skipping towards the person who spoke up.

Not the trapper. He'd seen this one around before, and he seemed to be generally a good sort. But trapped as Loki was, he still bore wary watching.