Rikive blinked up at the man, stunned that he knew her father. And not in the sense that he had heard his name, but that he actually had met him. "Thou knows my father?" She asked him, standing up from her seat. If he was speaking the truth, but she could not think of any reason why someone would lie about personally knowing a Norse god. 

It was not such a stretch to believe. Her father entertained many beings from all across the realms, his wonderful mead attracted quite the crowd. In fact, such an occasion was how she came to even exist. 800's years...She may have still been a babe around then, but it was hard to say, time passed so much differently in Asgard compared to Midgard. 

"Not very long, I believe." She answered him with a small shrug. "The winter season had just ended when I arrived and it is still spring." Perhaps this would be a good thing. A friend of her father may just provide the relief she needed from her adventure walking all over Midgard or riding in some very strange contraptions.

Airplanes amazed her as much as they terrified her. It was like willingly walking into a dragons belly. Absolute madness that was.

She rubbed her chin in thought and stared at him, trying to think if he matched the description of any of the guests in her father's wild stories. After a moment she pointed at him. "Are thou the one that broke my father's dragon painted round shield in half by striking another guest on the head?"