As Thor grasps his weakening body and pulls him up off of the ground, Loki hisses a pained breath on its intake. The hand used to grasp at his wounded shoulder releases and he grabs onto Thor for balance. Despite their ever-widening rift, physical contact is never something to find alien or inappropriate, even when such friction is apparent.

Loki only loathes the echoes of kinship he feels with Thor holding him up, supporting him, helping him.

His eyes glare, but his smile contradicts his reaction. "You are becoming too much like me. Is that a threat, or a promise?"