Cerulean Cape if i had a voice

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.