Cerulean Cape if i had a voice

Ég hef saknað þín.

They were words he didn't quite know how to say, not for lack of wanting but for lack of closeness. Where his littermate was fire, he was ice. Where she spoke her mind, he ruminated and shielded his thoughts. Compared to @Valmúa, Stjornuati was cold and aloof; this had always been his way, quiet even as a child. So stark in their differences, so few in their similarities, he had never known how to show his appreciation of the female; appreciation that had grown ten-fold now with her appearance here in the wilds.

The wolf of cream and gold and all the colors in between still found showing that appreciation difficult, speaking it even more so. All the words he thought of, in all of the tongues he knew, sounded inept and insubstantial. Had it been in his character, he would have expressed this all to her, that he did not know how to express his joy at having her with him again or how grateful he was for her presence, but then he would not have had the issue in the first place.

With a rough sigh, Stjornuati continued along the peninsula that stretched out into the water, searching for... something.

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.

In a bout of coincidence that happened so frequently in the world of collaborative writing, so he thought of her and so, she appeared, her shove both expected and unexpected all at once. His hide smarted where her teeth pinched, rounding on his fire-cloaked blood-kin with chomping teeth and a wagging tail, never mind that the two statements of body language contradicted each other. Stjornuati knew he should not have been surprised, but the ambushes of his sister were still a recent re-addition to his life. Surely their frequency would break him of such shock in the future.

You followed me, He accused in their language, stepping forward to butt his head against her shoulder, a rough nip following this. Wasting no time getting back to old habits, I see. Here, in these new lands, he welcomed the familiarity of it, welcomed the raging force that was Valmua. A sly grin that was reserved only for their mischief together, Stjornuati continued on his accusatory path. I bet you followed us out here to get away from all the boys trying to woo you and win your heart.

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.

Were the man to know his fair sister plotted against him and Solpallur, it would have been a betrayal deep enough to wound their relationship for life, if not an eternity. While he knew that the two of them were not as close as he and and the suneater were, the love he had for his sister was the strong sort, cherished by the man who loosed a growl right back to her, tail whipping wickedly behind him in some rare display of joy.

The realm of what was unknown to him yawned wide this day, engulfing the secrets the fiery female kept, keeping him from suspicion and conjecture.

Her lewdness brought a bark of laughter from him, grim morphing into some sly expression as he needled his own joke right back at her. You mean to say that Kigipigak is not well endowed or he does not use it as you like? Whatever uncomfortable emotions she designed to wring from him, Stjornuati would volley right back until one or the other of them could no longer take the thought of their sibling doing the skítugur.

Where has he been, anyway? He showed briefly and I have not scented him since.

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.

Only if you wish to hear about mine, little poppy. His grin was wicked and wide, a low, gravelly laugh rattling his chest. Their clan was a hedonistic one, the fulfillment of the body's desire an encouraged one, though he was yet careful about who he formed such a bond with. He had gotten close with a few but before he could sire any northerners of his own, he and his brother's hringja had called them away and thus, severed whatever bonds had been forged.

Her explanation of Kigipigak's location was stored, tucked away for further use, her last statement giving him some lead in to give voice to the things he had been thinking prior to her raucous arrival. We are lucky to have you, sister mine. I never thought I'd see you again but my heart is warmed by your presence.

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.

All will be revealed in time. The fabric is woven by the Norns themselves, now. They did have a plan, loose and variable, but it was something discussed only between Solpallur and himself for now. The ears of his sister would not be granted such secrets, despite her yearning for such. In his mind, he remember the vision of the ravens, of the sun and the stars, of the colors of gold and night mixing in the sky, high upon a peak that speared the clouds themselves. It was a vision he planned to revisit, though he was ever sure of his place in it.

All you must know is that our legacy will be sung in feasting halls of Valhalla. Here was a fierce grin of pride and confidence, teeth showing as he suddenly lunged for her, only to trap her muzzle within his jaws and give her a light shake. Come! Come. We will hunt along the shores for food, together. His invitation was jovial, an excited spark giving the man life and purpose. Conviction.

If only were he to know that his sister conspired against him.

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.