Her house was... Homely. Not as in decorated, although an attempt had been made at that, the flowery wallpaper and sewn curtains evidence of that, but homely as in it was a home. The couch was worn down, part of it covered in a knitted blanket and the rest in pillows with embroidered flowers on them, opposite of a fireplace, next to it a half-empty basket for firewood of red willow. The kitchen was in the corner of the only room he'd seen, as they'd gone in through the large glass doors, which she seemingly had left open. He followed her unsurely, sniffing the air as he stepped across the threshold and followed her to the corner. The kitchen, L-shaped along the wall and a nearly identical L-shape against the open air, cornered her in, and he happily remained on the other side of the barrier, watching her moving around confidently. Her hair, black and frizzy, seemed to be bothering her as she grabbed a small piece of fabric, wrapping it around it and securing it at the back of her head.

"You are welcome to explore, though I imagine that would be more pleasant after I have treated you," she offered over her shoulder, reaching to grab jars and tins from the shelves along the ceiling, piling them onto a wooden cutting board. After some consideration, he jumped on the counter; the effort small for the body he had chosen, yet painful for the part of it he had been given. But still, he places himself on what he believed to be some sort of kitchen island, swiping his tail back and forth.

"Don't wander too far, though. I'll have to look at your wounds to treat them," she told, looking through a glass jar to see its content with one eye closed.

"I suppose that means I will have to take my shirt off," Loki offered lazily, his long form leaving his legs hanging down the side of the cabinets, his torso lying on the counters. With a shriek she turned around, and upon seeing the very human form, her hands slipped, the jar of dried leafs plummeting towards the creaky wooden floors. Reaching a hand out, Loki stopped it about ten centimetres above the floor, even this small magic taking tremendous effort.

"I have a feeling we will need that, no use in destroying it," he offered flatly. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, her face a strange mixture of fright and down-right violence.

"Who are you. What are you." The questions came out shortly and deep, her voice almost free of quivering.

"I dare ask you the same," he returned it, forcing himself to sit up, much against his bodies complaints. The blood had begun seeping from his stomach once again, as was proven by the bloody plumage on his shirt growing.

"How did you find me?" she asked instead, forcing Loki to keep his facial features still. How did he find her? Why would he be looking for her? How would he know of her?

"It seems I acquire some assistance with my injuries," he told her instead, opting to keep the information at a minimum. He didn't trust most people because he thought them to be dumb; he did not trust this particular person because he theorised she was anything but. He, of all people, knew knowledge to be the strongest weapon, and with the knowledge he had... It would be the greatest weapon ever forced, and while he would happily accept the challenge against her another day, it would have to wait until his wounds had scarred.

"Seems that way," she agreed, not moving.

"I imagine you might a way of... assisting," he mentioned, glancing around her at the various shelves filled with anything one might be able to think of.

"I imagine so. What trouble humans get themselves into... It's none of my concern," she told him, her voice strengthening with braveness.

"Fortunately, I am not among humanity," Loki stated, sending her a humourless smile that would have made anyone uneasy.

"What are you?" she repeated, this time more steadily.

"I believe the humanity you speak of see me as their devil," he told, happy to scare her into doing his bidding, but not willing to offer the information she wanted.

"Well, something we have in common, I suppose," she told, seemingly assured by what had essentially been a warning; "Why should I help you?". Loki narrowed his eyes.

"I wield magic. I might very well use it against you," he added, the lightheadedness of blood loss not entirely unfamiliar, yet disheartening nonetheless.

"Another thing we have in common," she stated, crossing her arms.

"I take no pleasure in hurting humans-"

"Third thing," she interjected, seemingly growing bolder.

"-But I will do what it takes to make you help me. You may choose yourself what that might entail," he offered, the menacing look finally taking effect. The stubborn woman's lips tightened, a small huff escaping her.