Big Salmon Lake far from grace

Body language was difficult for Hydra not to reciprocate. Savage in nature, she was still amicable (enough) until the need for that arise. Her tail swayed behind her to reveal she herself meant no harm, and when the other spoke Hydra's gaze shifted toward the water there. Truth be told, she had not recognized her own thirst. The other certainly had not stopped her, but she was so focused on all that had been going on and was going on that she scarcely had a minute to think of herself, her needs, her wants. 

Frøya had not stopped her, but she had reminded her. A grateful noise came from her, and she approached the water to take a quick drink. There was little ice left upon the Lake thanks to Springs thawing, but it was blissfully chilled. Hydra lifted her head, water dripping from her chin. Licking her chops, the matriarch regarded the stranger. 

Shifting her weight, Hydra drawled, you have not happened to come across a recently injured black she-wolf on your travels, have you? her voice good-natured, and not absent of interest. She attacked my son, you see, a warning enough that Frøya herself should be vigilant. Kindness, for kindness.