"I do good work of remembering that most of the time." Sif replied, looking away. While not something that made much of a dent after so many years having proven herself a capable warrior, there were still times where Sif was bothered by little insecurities stemming from the doubt she still saw in a few pairs of eyes. She had proven herself, proven them all wrong, and yet still some viewed her as some kind of defective being. Most of the time, she turned her chin up and let them speak. Eventually they came to either thank her in person or, she was sure, be thankful to her regardless. It still gnawed at her, when she let it.

Though if she had been privy to Loki's thoughts on competition, she would have laughed bitterly. Because Sif had not been born competitive, she had been forced to become it. It was merely a matter of it not being constantly so close to home as Loki's, thus not as present.

Not very long ago Sif would say with utmost certainty that she meant the kind of love that was made up of affection and respect. And, due to recent-past events, sadness and some anger. However since spending more time with Loki - this Loki, a friend but not yet a monster - things of the past had resurfaced. Not that Sif did anything but pretend very effectively that they were not, in fact, tugging at her this very moment. "I don't know," she replied, as non-committally as she could manage. "From my point-of-view, you are. From yours, I suppose it depends on how much value mine has for you."