"I think there's a bottle of mead somewhere in the kitchen." But for now he wasn't about to go hunting for it, just snuggling in on Cricket with a soft, pleased little huff.

"If we wind up with two, they can race Willie and Thori." Loki pointed out, more teasing than anything, earning a muzzy, half-asleep whuff from under the porch from the latter.

If Loki had his way, Cricket would have a lot more than fifty years. But... it would be up to Cricket. It wouldn't be right otherwise... the trickster would just make damn sure the option was available. And argue his side of things should he need to.

"The present earlier this week was me chickening out," Loki admitted in a wry tone, resting his head against Cricket's shoulder. "The soapstone was for you anyways but well..."