The answer makes Loki stare at the bird harder, his own magic humming in the air between them as he tries to see what kind of summon was used, and what kind of magic the bird has. "You're a sorceress, then," he states, openly interested. "What is your purview?"

"Ravens seldom are," he agrees, and that does not seem to bother him. His curious expression turns into one of delight at that last piece of information and he grins, playful but sharp. "What a coincidence. As a matter of fact, so am I." After all, mischief is his domain.