Elin isn't here all that often, she has a job to do after all, and it isn't really one that allows for much time off. Still, there are days when she needs to go out, when she needs to make lists of who's next. It's always a little morbid if you ask her, and she prefers not to think about that side of things. Far too messy.

Of all the realms to visit though, she's always drawn to Valhalla. It's hardly surprising really, not when her childhood had been full of stories. It always seemed so magical, so unreal. But that was before her life turned into a story of its own.

She tends not to get in the middle of things, keeping to the sidelines and disappearing into the surroundings. Easy when you're dead, of course. A funny knack that people seem to pick up when they're no longer breathing.

It's before he leaves the hall that she spots him, and a few minutes after he leaves that she follows him out. She knows what it's like, not to really fit in, not to have a place. She knows how that feels. And so she walks up towards him, gentle heels clicking on the stone ground before she stops and sits herself down on the step next to him, her lemon coloured sundress pulled up under her knees.

"Worried someone'll nick your drink if you stay in there?"