Now that is interesting. For all that Reynard knows of old stories, the details of Loki's origins were not among them. So here is someone who can withstand much of what Winter throws. Will he take it as a chance to enjoy the Season, or defy it? A curiosity for his Winter self to observe.

Reynard touches his own chest with splayed fingers. "I am a master at my craft. Frost flowers, hair ice, glaze, diamond dust... I do it all. The most exquisite, unique formations Winter can offer. Only one person every twelve Seasons seem to notice. They'd sooner destroy it than admire it."

"They should make sure for themselves. Or..." He tilts his head at Loki, peering at the god thoughtfully. "Shouldn't they have to pray to you for them?"