Loki was following a rabbit trail across the lawn, snout low to the ground, tail wagging excitedly. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do, if she actually managed to catch up with the rabbit. Even in her wolf shape meat was probably still bad for her, so maybe she should just let the animal hop away. Then again she needed to practise all the skills of this shape. Maybe a dead rabbit would make a nice gift for Belial or Uriel? He knew Ishtar preferred her meals already skinned and cooked and War would probably want to do her own hunting.
The trail led straight through a flowerbed. Loki didn’t hesitate to plunge right through as well. There was more grass that tulips in there anyway. Come to think of it the lawn didn’t look very well kept either. Didn’t the manor have a gardener?
Not that Loki was complaining. The wilder the garden the more fun could be had. A gardener could be fun as well though. Dig out a few flowers and most gardeners would play hide-n-seek with you for hours.
Wait a minute, where was that rabbit trail? Ah there, the animal had taken a left turn right after crossing the flowerbed that Loki had missed. Around the shed now and …
Loki stopped short and stared incredulously at a basket filled with straw and one single lonely egg. Of course she’d seen a lot of strange things in her centuries long life, but there couldn’t actually be an Easter Bunny, right? It wasn’t even Easter yet!
There was a very soft sound from the basket and then the egg shuddered and cracked. No, it wasn’t an Easter egg. It was a perfectly normal white egg and it was about to hatch. So where was the poor little chick’s family? Didn’t chickens usually have large clutches? And wasn’t the mother supposed to be the first thing the chick saw so it could imprint on her?
Loki whined gently and nuzzled the egg. She wished she could help the chick, but didn’t dare crack the eggshell with her fangs. She might bite down too had and hurt the chick. Besides, if she was the first thing the little bird saw it would imprint on her and then …
Then Loki would have a pet chick. Her tail started wagging again. She’d always wanted a pet of her own. The little chicken would follow her around the manor and eat out of her hand and sleep in her bed.
“No, oh no, bad dog!” someone scolded. “Stay away from my children! Shoo!”
Loki turned her head towards the voice. It was another Judeo-Christian god, dressed entirely in tartan and followed by a whole row of baby ducks wearing tiny little bonnets with coloured ribbons.
“Shoo, I said,” the strange god repeated and waved a pink ribbon in front of Loki’s nose. “Bad dog! Leave my baby alone!”
Loki sat back on her haunches and watched the stranger grab and cradle the egg in his hands. This was too much. Couldn’t this clown tell the difference between a wolf and a dog? She shifted back to her human form and flopped backwards into the grass laughing.
The stranger stared down at him now cradling a still wet newly hatched duckling. “Whatever is so funny about this?” He demanded.
With an effort Loki got his laughter under control. Seriously, some gods were just too ridiculous.
“Do you really think he wants a pink ribbon on his bonnet? What if he’s a boy duck?”