Silverlight Terrace i won't fight the fire, i feel the rain fall down

There. 

He looked upon Moonspear as she looked upon him, and Hydra wondered if he might make his way toward them. Their last discussion left much to the imagination; what would he do? She was not the sort to wait and see, not in this—she had waited long enough. Abandoning the fox and leaving it to the crows, Hydra made her final descent, sure to take her time about it. 

And once she had made it to the flatlands, her long-legged strides led her right to his side. There was a myriad of scents upon his person, and... and were all of them women? 

Hydra thought of Alya, then, and her words meant to forewarn. Once she had thought his playboy nature to be charming, but now she was made irate by such a thought. It became apparent to her that he very well might have come to bid Moonspear farewell this visit—

But her pride, great as it was, did not allow much room for that belief to breathe, and so it died as quickly as it had been brought to life. No, she vainly imagined—he had come for her. Looking for someone? She inquired, ears pricked.