Gabriel's breath caught as Loki shifted, form flowing into that of a large, majestic dragon straight out of the Edda; if Sigurd had turned up with his sword, if a ship full of Viking warriors had appeared, nothing would have seemed out of place. Gabriel felt as though he was in a Norse legend.

Light glinted off the dragon's scales, and Gabriel moved back as one clawed foot stepped into the pond, splashing some water out.

The dragon turned his - her, something told him it was a her - head towards him, and he found himself transfixed by the huge, ancient, intelligent gaze. Slowly, tentatively, he raised a hand to her snout, hovering just above a smooth scale, silently asking permission.