"You don't want it to be your thing, but it's okay as recreation?" Magnus asks, checking. He wonders if he'd like fighting as recreation. Not now -- not anytime soon -- but someday.

Ugh. He probably shouldn't write fighting off yet, not until he's figured out an alternate path. If he gets spat out back at Valhalla the same way he stumbled into this place here, he'll be right back in the thick of it unless he comes up with a workable contingency plan. The thought fills him with more dread than he'd anticipated.