"Are you sure he's alive? Why don't you hold him and let him smell your armpit?"
In the snow-covered world, there was a small cave. A wisp of greenish smoke drifted from its entrance. The damp wood in the campfire was not burning thoroughly, leaving a sharp, pungent smell in the air.
Not long ago, several Aesir survivors had dug up a coffin in the Asgardian dimension of the DC Universe. Inside had been a bearded, burly man. They had assumed he was some fallen hero, but Thor insisted that he still had a breath left in him and wanted to save him.
So the group found a small cave sheltered from the wind and lit a fire, hoping to see whether they could bring him back.
Thor pawed all over the bearded man and had come just short of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but the man's chest had not risen in the slightest. That was why Loki asked the question. In her opinion, even if this man had not originally been dead, he should have been thoroughly killed by her idiot brother's rough handling.
He was just an ordinary human. Could anyone survive after being mauled by a brown bear?
"Definitely. I can feel it." Thor did not give up. He placed a hand on the man's bare chest and felt a faint warmth. "An ordinary human wearing only a bearskin cloak at minus sixty degrees is a bit much, but he's alive. And what did you mean about armpits? Wait, that makes some sense. He's a warrior—does he need to smell a familiar scent of sweat before he wakes up?"
As he spoke, Thor raised an arm and sniffed his own armpit. There was indeed a smell somewhat like cumin seasoning. It stung the eyes a little, but it did