Appreciation was a funny thing. None of the siblings had been good at it. Though Valmúa had often been more physically affectionate than her brothers, she had grown a prickly exterior that prevented her emotions from being as obvious. Stjornuati and Solpallur knew, surely, that when she shoved and bumped and prodded them, it was her stormy version of a sisterly hug.
The fire woman knew that Stjornuati would certainly not have appreciated her sinister conversations with Kigipigak. That was precisely why her little pet would keep them secret.
Valmúa trailed after her brother, quickly stealing an opportunity to harass him. Her paws were caked with wet, cold sand. The coastal air was chilly and wet. It could cut to the bone with the right gust of wind in a way that was simply different and worse than their far north homeland.
For apparently no reason whatsoever, she galloped alongside him, open mouthed, and nipped forcefully at his side. She shoved him with her shoulder as she did so in the same way hockey players check an opponent. The contact made an audible sthmack as she bounced away, grinning.

As usual, he took her attack in good nature, mouthing at her. They both had bruises from this kind of contact, the same way they had when they were kids. In a way, it was practice for the hunts and spars they would surely have in the future. The push and nip he gave to her shoulder she responded to with a gentle, yet fighty mouthing of his maw. She let loose a guttural and loose growl.
Valmúa grinned as her brother described his suspicions of her, thinking of the young men of Stormhaven that had indeed been sad to see her go. She was sure that her family had hoped she would stay in the north and bear them great warriors and wives for future generations, but she had turned from that path in the face of great pressure.
It was the call, which means it is by fate you are stuck with me, she smiled. Although I am sure these Southern boys have their own endowments, the soft smile she presented morphed into something almost nasty. She had always liked to insert innuendo into every conversation, especially with her brothers, as she suspected it brought them a level of discomfort.

Of course, her conspiring had nothing to do with her relationship with her brother. Though it was true that Valmúa wanted a different picture of leadership than what her brothers had in mind, she kept her plotting with Kigipigak entirely separate. It was as though her strange little world with her northern boy toy was a compartment of her life. That was business. But Stjornuati, he was everything right now.
To his joke, she grinned wider and licked her teeth. That boy was like candy to her. Everything that came out of his sexy little mouth excited her. Shall I describe our escapades in violent detail? There was no universe he would win this one. Though her relationship with Kigipigak had yet to break such ground, she was a fantastic storyteller when the time warranted, and he knew it.
Indeed, the secretive world she held was kept so because she was fantastic at revealing half truths. So when Stjornuati asked the fire woman where he was, she told him. He is travelling in a wide circle around our Watch, scouting what and who is around us. He is a loyal one, we were lucky to find him, she said. Such a delicious, loyal boy.

She could not win against her brother, who indeed was as wild in his own way as she. He did not back down, and so she laughed something booming and low as he did. He referred to her by an old, girlish name her family had once called her, lítið valmú. Such references hardly bothered her, for she was once and always would be that girl. The poppy girl she had once been had been rebranded in fire, her hringja pushing her into the role she was now.
The rest of his words bring a smirking grin to her features. She knew very well she was a wrench in whatever plot they had. Do not get sentimental on me, brother mine, she said, and playfully growled as she snapped her teeth in the air, mostly for the enjoyment of its nasty sound. You and Solpallur have a plan for this place of ravens, and I want to know it, she prodded him with words alone. Valmúa wanted to know everything.

He tells her something that is unsatisfying to her. Valmúa wanted more. She wanted a divulgence of whatever plot Stjornuati and Solpallur had created. Her brothers were bonded strongly, and she knew that coming in, but the situation is far worse than she had imagined. She knew then when Stjor refused her that she would need to take things into her own paws. Sabotage.
If he wouldn't let her in, she would find her own damn way in.
He tells her of Valhalla, and grabbed her maw. She hated every second of it, and snapped harshly at him the moment he released her, though no damage was intended or created.
But her brother wished her to hunt with him, and she grinned slyly. It was a moment she wanted. The beauty and violence of the hunt with him once more, after all this time, it was something that made her blood feel hot. Let us hunt once more, my brother, The electricity within Stjornuati gave her life, and she pushed forward in excitement, mouthing at the side of his neck in a playful admiration of his strength.
They pushed forward upon the sands. To her, it was unfamiliar terrain. To him, who knew all that she did not and refused to tell, it was simple to find what they needed. Into the salty winds they went, and Valmúa had no more answers than she started with.