Barrow Fields The interesting thing

Kisa. What a little bitch. One shot in the goodies and Stjor was down for the count, unable to lift himself from her. She scrambled like a cat half caught in tube that was just too narrow, pushing with all her limited might at his body, annoyed beyond belief. As usual, she had done this to herself, but the fault was his and his alone. He started it.
She shouted something like a war cry at her predicament, struggling for a solid minute before she finally accepted the position she was in was permanent until he decided to do something about it. She wondered what would happen if she'd killed him. She imagined Sol would just sit there and watch his brother rotting on top of her while she was forced to chew her way out.
Valmúa narrowed her eyes, looking ahead of her but talking to his temporarily out of order body. Hvað, áttu skyndilega kúlur Óðins? Please.