[Stildyne had wrapped his fingers, and was working the punching bag-- an exercise not therapeutic in its violence as much as it was in its simple physical exertion. He broke when Loki arrived.]

Well, there we are. Come for a piece?

[He spread his arms as a form of welcome, though he felt a good deal less casually antagonistic than he was making out. He assumed someone of godlike powers would hand his hind parts to him, and he couldn't honestly say that he didn't deserve a light beating, just to let the inmate have some of his own back.]