The thirteen year old girl watched quivering as Odin, the Allfather and ruler of Asgard analyzed her entire being with a mere glance as he decided her fate. She discreetly, or as best as she could, wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her faded jeans. Her light-brown hair was messier than usual and quite a bit of it had fallen loose of her ponytail; beads of sweat ran down her pale face. She bit her lip and unknowingly held her breath when Odin began to speak.
“Alison of Midgard,” he began, his words slow and his voice echoing through the great hall in the palace. “For your crimes here in Asgard, you will be sentenced to a year of work,” he decided.
Alison managed to exhale a little. Well, that wasn’t the worst punishment, right?