Neverwinter Forest up in smoke

She hadn't been in full sight, but neither could it be said that Hydra had hidden—she had verbalized her presence, after all—but the tawny male heeded another, and Hydra was thankful as she had time to process. This voice was not the deep brogue of the one male that truly unbalanced her, but it was familiar... gratingly so. Hydra hung to where she was as she sought to place it, blending perfectly with the shadows and entirely unaware that her mother was there.

When the head swung in her direction, Hydra knew at once who this was. And it did not matter that he had a friend with him, not in the slightest. It was not overconfidence in her own ability—it was that she had caught him unawares before he had done the same to her. Hydra's reaction time was quick—she lurched forward in a bid to unbalance and pin him swiftly, a quiet mass of destruction as she came for him with defenses set and teeth bared.

She had warned him not to come around her neck of the woods anymore. He should have waited for the dust to settle. What arrogance was this? Hydra could help him live a little longer, but not if her father was near. She thought of Rannoch, of Gannet, of Towhee—she thought of this vapid boy and the war he would start with his presence alone.

What she would do, for certain, was kill him if he succeeded in all of that. Hers would be the last face he would ever see.

And then she thought of Galaxy. Of her unmoving features. Of the life that had fled her as this shit fled the scene of his crime. Of Alya, of Lyra—what if it had been them? What if it had been them?

Maybe she ought to kill him anyway.