Moonspear house so empty, need a centerpiece

Alya's contrition appeased Hydra swiftly. As quick as she had been to become angry, she was quicker to appease. Her most fluent language was that of wolf, reigning supreme over spoken tongue. Hydra nipped Alya fondly, and swiftly forgot she was even pretending to be anyone else. Her fathers words gained her primary interest when he spoke, and Hydra moved to bounce toward him, encouraging Alya to do the same with a simple look. Their pale sister drifted toward the back, as ever, and Hydra peered over her shoulder to make sure she was okay. Julia endured a lot of abuse, but Hydra didn't hate her. Hydra would beat up anything that hurt Julia other than she and her sisters, because no one, no one would mess with her family. 

Hydra thought about Lyra too, briefly. But Lyra would get to hang out with mom all alone, which was equally as cool as hanging out with dad, and so her attentions were all upon Alya. I hasn't, she said imperfectly in answer to his question, her baby blues peering upward at him. Alya was more exuberant than Hydra was, which was no surprise and also no bother at all. Hydra loved Alya and Lyra fiercely, and would never be able to find anything bad at all in her mirror images.