Loki covered his face with his arm to protect his eyes from the plaster and hoped that this wasn't the whole ceiling coming down. Being crushed to death might solve all his problems, but he expected it would be rather painful and ... well, he'd have liked to live a little longer. There were things he still wanted to do.

There was the expected clutter of debris raining down, the sharp burning of plaster dust in his throat and a sound somewhere between a scream and a hiss. Loki risked a peek.

There was a small black cat clinging desperately to Newt, eyes wide with fright.

"Oh dear!" Loki exclaimed. "You poor, poor kitty!"

He snatched the animal off Newt and cuddled her close to his chest to comfort her.

"And such a cute and soft kitty you are."