Dolly Mixtures Musebox

The storm has been one of her best, thunder had rolled, lightning arced across the sky and the rain came down in a torrent, the ship never stood a chance. The crew had made a valiant effort to keep control but the verocity of the waves and the storm almost ripped the hull apart. The lightning was the final straw, striking the central mast like a hammer and causing the wood to split and crack. That was when they knew there was no escaping it. The violent onslaught of waves and weather didn't stop until the ship was in pieces, its crew drowned or desperately clinging to flotsam, only delaying the inevitable. The ship would go down with all hands.

Only it didn't. Somehow, through ingenuity, luck or sheer tenacity, one crewmember survived... washed up on a nearby island, some lonely little scrub-covered rock in the middle of the sea, windswept and salted and lonely. It wasn't the worst place he could have finished his perilous journey, there were trees and a lake, if he ventured deep enough into the woods to find the fresh water, the rocks looming enough to form cliffs and caves for shelter. It wasn't long-term habitable, certainly, but it was survivable.

Thor had watched the man, half interested, impressed he had made it that far but expecting him to die soon just as the others had, lying on the beach so close to everything he might have needed for salvation. And then he surprised her again, made it into the woods, took shelter in a cave, found food even, and her interest grew. It grew enough for her to set foot on Midgard, on that lonely little island, and pay him a visit.

She moved through the woods towards the cave, less stealthy than she was usually capable of, ensuring he knew of her approach and wasn't surprised. She stopped outside, not wanting him to feel cornered, he seemed like the vicious sort when he needed to be.

"Hello?"