Moonspear it don't matter if the cold wind blows, I'm gonna wind up working in the thick of it

Time continued to pass. Hydra licked her chops, circled, and looked upward again; she could go without him, she knew. But she would not, having wanted to do this with him to see where his abilities might lie. Evidently not in being punctual, the thought coming to her not without irritation; but when she saw him come, she understood what had kept him. He had come to them more exhausted than any other, and malnourished than the rest; all that he had been permitted to eat here throughout his stay was likely why he could come to her at all in the first place. It occurred to her, then and there, that he would surely be dead were it not for that. 

It also occurred to her he might yet still die were more to never be found. No, she reconsidered; he would definitely die. Not from her fang, but from his own malnourishment; he did not know it, but Hydra would never turn against her own subordinates for things they were all helpless against... no, really, the only reason which Hydra would do such a thing was for direct insubordination, deceit, or the undue harm of her children when they could not protect themselves in full. The weakened male who approached her was doing his best. It was not much, yet... but Hydra could not ignore that. 

As he came beside her, Hydra measured him. He was tired, that much was clear. If they were to find something she would likely need to do the brunt of the work herself—Hydra had long since decided if an opportunity were to present itself, she would take advantage of it. Breathe, she advised, the air is different up here. Thinner. We will go up slowly, she drawled, not wanting him to suffer from hypoxia or heart failure. Hydra waited for him to catch his own breath before she began their journey; it would not be a short one.

The two eventually did make their way up; Hydra and he found a decently sized billy-goat. It took hours more for anything to be yielded from it, and Hydra did most—if she was being generous—of the work; eventually it was killed, and they were able to eat. For it, Moonspear would have a meal and be a little less hungry this eve. 

archiving fader since he ded