On ten thousand paths, not a soul in sight (смешанная)

Ghost Valley was peaceful, Loki thought as he absentmindedly watched the blooming forest in the distance, and one of the most beautiful places he had seen in his life. His book laid forgotten in his lap as he was mesmerized by the light of down sparkling over the trees.
He had been desperate in the wake of the Battle of New York, had known that if Thor took him to Asgard he would not be allowed to defend himself. If he were allowed to speak at all, that was. He shuddered to think of what the Shield would have done had they gotten their hands on him and he would rather die than end up in Thanos' clutches again. His chances of a fair trial and potential freedom had been very low and he had known that were he to run one of his enemies would have eventually caught up to him. There had been only one place he could think of that would give him a chance, a place known to take in runaways and outlaws. Not criminals, at least not in his opinion, and that made all the difference. A place the Shield and Thanos would suspect not to look for him and Odin would dare not anger, not even to get to him.