Cerulean Cape if i had a voice

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.