Thor listens, frowning, as he follows Natasha at Rogers' side. Sokovia had been a success, he'd thought. Ultron defeated, a majority of civilians saved from the battle, and a new ally or two recruited to their ranks. It wasn't like Stark and Banner had meant to create a lifeform bent on genocide.

Nor had Odin, his subconscious whispers. And though the Allfather was a wise, good king in the centuries since Thor's birth, Thor has recently begun to realize that some villains' hatred for Asgard may not be entirely unwarranted or unjustified.

A disconcerting thought.

But even so, perhaps the Earth government meddled far deeper than their right, shackling their mightiest for fear of their power. Where once he would have leaped to conclusions, Thor holds himself back, unwilling to speak ill of situations he does not fully understand. Whatever has befallen his shieldbrothers, these two at least are safe, and that is worth celebrating. "How fortunate that you too have discovered this haven, then."

Rogers' house is almost pretty in that quaint Midgardian way, and Thor casts a side glance at the coat hooks in the entryway as they pass, a flicker of loss in his heart that he has no hammer to hang there. But it's a momentary thought only, set aside as he looks around the interior, rubbernecking a bit more than usual to compensate for his blind side. "I look forward to meeting them," he says with a smile, peering curiously at the sleeping creatures. What a pair they make!