"Come now, there's no need for such hostility," the god chides, his voice deceptively soft and friendly. "We're speaking of children here, not biological weapons - although, granted, given some of my offspring, you could be forgiven for believing them to be one and the same."

He chuckles, taking a moment to think of Fenris and Jormungandr, not to mention his daughter, Hela. Perhaps Tasha knows of the stories; perhaps she doesn't. Either way, it would be a logical guess to assume that anything related to him is rather formidable.

"Is that really how you feel, Drakov's daughter? You would sacrifice your own happiness, merely to spite me?"