Loki was on his way back from Ireland, in a foul mood after his bargain with Brigid. He took the long way home, over hills and through forests, rather than once more brave the stormy seas between the emerald isle and his homeland. It gave him a chance to cool down and, more importantly, to make mischief for whomever he met.
One fine spring morning on his journey he saw a lark's nest full of eggs, abandoned for the moment, but surely home to a happy bird. Seized with a not-uncommon impulse to cause trouble, Loki took the eggs and scattered him, hiding them under bushes, in trees, beneath fallen leaves, on rocks in the burbling streambed, in the nests of other birds, in caves, and in every out of the way place he could find.
Hungry after his exertions and well pleased with himself, Loki caught a rabbit for breakfast. He couldn't help but go check on the lark's nest then, and so he set his slain rabbit on a rock while he crept closer to observe the mournful bird.
Instead of a distr