That seems to amuse him, the critique of location. He sets the bow aside on the mantel. He turns to carefully and steps closer. He lets out a put out sigh. Such a mess to clean up.

He stoops and hooks an arm around his good one to pull him back to his feet. "Do try not to pass out," he says and points him toward a chair to sit in. Whether he sits or not Loki leaves him. A second later he tosses something at him, a dishtowel.

"I had hoped I not need to use this," he comments as he opens a box on the table.