Clothing
Midgard. It has… changed. So much.
I am garbed in the attire that the Midgardians wore the last time I came here. But….
I cringe.
They wear so little, now! In my tunic and leggings, I stand out horribly.
In fact, I am being a spectacle, at present. And I hate being an object of unfavourable curiosity.
The transportation spell took me to a well-visited, sun-drenched beach, apparently. And now I am pressed from all sides by sweaty, sun-kissed, skimpy-clothed Midgardians – mortals.
But, if they are indeed mortals, why do they look so gigantic? Did the spell somehow bring me to Jötunheim instead, and the jötnar are toying with me through illusions? Can – would – the frost giants go so far as to create an illusion of heat?
Well, in any case, I am not willing to be here even a heartbeat longer.
My smaller body makes it both easier and harder to find the way out of this torture. Easier because I can slip in-between all the milling bodies, and harder because it is hard to see where I am going. Twice do I find myself being turned around, and it does not help my mood any.
What a holiday.