(3rd person PoV)
It was a day like most other days in Freya's life: a boring day. She gazed down at the city in hopes of finding any interesting colors or shapes today.
While sitting on her well-furnished chair with a glass of wine in her hand, she kept looking. It was such a prolonged activity that she almost had the mind to get up and do something more productive.
'Maybe I should go to the Hostess in Horn's stead today' She thought.
Just as she was about to get up, she saw something that shocked her. She was left so absent-minded that she let the glass of wine slip from her hand. Ottar was there to catch it before it ruined his lady's carpet. Not to mention, she loved this brand of wine. It would have been a waste to let it splatter on the carpet as the glass shattered, he believed.
What the goddess saw was a soul that was previously grey, a plain soul beyond plain that it seemed less worthy of her attention than the common soul. However, this time, it was so vibrant with all kinds of colors that it was almost blinding. What was more interesting was the fact that it was getting that color from another soul, as if this soul's brilliance relied on the other soul's existence in its life.
Looking at the linking thread between them, she was led to a giant apparently at Ottar's height and just as much promise in his soul. She was sure that given enough time, he might just be able to reach the same strength as Ottar or even surpass him if Ottar did not get any motivation to become stronger.
That was not the end of it, she thought, as she followed another thread stretching from this one's soul to another, to a woman's soul. It was a thread nearly half as thick as the first.
Only now did Freya notice that she was pressing herself against the large glass window from which she was observing all of this. She returned to her chair, throwing herself in it with swirling thoughts.
'Although his soul is clinging more to Carillon's soul, it shows more protective qualities towards the woman's soul. His wife, is it?' She thought, satisfied with her acute deduction. This protective quality only really appeared between really close friends and family members, of which her behavior was too intense to merely be a friend, and her appearance and race hinted at not being a family member with a blood relation.
"Ottar, someone interesting showed up" She said as she raised her hand wide open, asking for the glass of wine back. She trusted that he had caught it without spilling a droplet.
"Anything that I may help with, my lady?" Ottar said, gently putting the glass in her hand.
"Not for now, no. I'll observe his life a little more before trying to get closer. Maybe a more natural encounter will present itself during that time" She took a sip from her glass as she saw him being hauled back to his home unconscious, back to the Twilight Manor. 'Loki, we might butt heads in the near future'