"I'm nowhere near straining myself, Eilonwy." Loki reassured. Except it wasn't the Loki sitting on the floor cushion in the field of flowers, smirking to himself. This 'Loki' was over by her kitchen, moving to examine the broth things before turning to her with a smile.

"And no, not like drawings. Give me more credit than that." Yet one more 'Loki' said, sitting on her bed and crossing their arms. Close enough to reach out and touch, if she wanted.