[Thor snarls, dropping his hands and letting his pale eyes fix on his sister as he pulls himself upright.] And what conclusion may that be? That I near wiped out an entire race of peoples so that a lineage could not survive to rise back up against us in generations to come? Let them think what they will!

[But there is a petulance under the quick anger that Loki will recognize, a childish need to be talked down and coddled. Handled when Thor feels untouchable. He has not cleaned himself because he has earned the grime by both word and deed, agreeing to the battle and leading the charge with the relish of a warrior. And then their enemy sent their children into the fray to die against Asgardians twice their bulk and ten times their skill. Thor looks at the blood smeared on the arms of his chair and stands, kicking the heavy thing away with a blow that sends it to the stone wall where it cracks and fractures with an almighty sound.]

Let them think what they will.