There comes a time when Óðinn asks Vili how feasible it would be to kill Ymir.
"Isn't it all so beautiful?"
"I thought it was gone."
He sits down and examines some moss closely.
"...That would be awful. I'm sorry."
"Who are you?"
"No one important."
He breathes in and out deeply, closes his eyes. "You're older, though, aren't you?"
"Older than what?"
"Than me. Than most people. You thought plants were gone."
"I lost the seeds in the flood but I guess they grew. Have these been here long? Someone should've told me sooner."
"They were here when I got here. Look." He puts a hand behind a single bud to make it clearer. "It's going to flower soon."
"What does that mean?"
He jumps to his feet. "Come see!"
He gets up.
Loki grabs his hand and pulls him further inland, towards a patch of purple--tiny blossoms dotting out the green underneath. Loki picks one free from its stem and offers it to him.
He holds out his hands for it, crying.
"Are you okay?"
Shrug. "I saw one of these before. In the ice. But I couldn't tell where it came from and I didn't think I'd ever see one again."
"Well, there's plenty here." He holds out his arms sort of awkwardly in case Vé wants a hug.
He doesn't notice; he's staring at the flower.
That's adorable. He can wait.
"I thought most of the people might have died. But you're here. Where'd you come from?"
"Not everyone died, and when there's a couple people sometimes they make more people..."
"I'm glad. Uh. Mostly glad. I didn't hear about any babies being born, I hope I'm not your uncle..."
"Not if you were alive during the flood, you're not."