"We tried to persuade him otherwise. But Thor wouldn't be denied, and honestly? I had been surprised at Father forbidding it too." Loki wasn't upset really, or if he was he was hiding it well. "We went to Jotunheim, demanded answers. Their king would've let us go with a warning, after some words had been traded. Running ill suited Thor however, and one of the frost giants taunted him--gave him the excuse he wanted. So we fought. Frost Giants are no easy enemy to deal with, even when not outnumbered. Their touch on bare skin burns one like harsh frost is wont to do."

Loki held up his left arm, hand out, almost as if he were examining it. "Volstagg suffered one such burn. One of them grabbed me, tore through my shirts armor and I expected to suffer the same--but I didn't. My enemy and I both watched and stared for a moment at each other, as my skin started to turn the blue-grey of his own."