The girl gave a grin to the Thunder God at his confirmation for the hammer to be the mighty Mjolnir. Out of nowhere, her outfit shifted again to Loki's colors and outfit design, but in a more feminine fashion. Her gaze towards the hammer became a frown, and she narrowed her eyes. Delicately taking hold of the handle, she tugged it. No budge. She tugged it again. No budge. She gave a grunt in her effort to lift the weapon, and she was projecting Loki's anger and frustration through it. This time, she used both hands and, once again, the hammer wouldn't give. "The tales are true about such a weapon", she grinned again to the eldest prince before looking at the brooding youngest. She approached him and sat across from him, near the window. "You're the youngest, they say", she observed.