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

She considered his words as he spoke them. He sought to comfort, but also to speak the way that he saw things. It was a different perspective than her own, but perhaps it had been because he had been burned that for him not everything was a fight. Hydra had learned to cut out those unworthy of her time, affections, and energy... but her family was worth such things. Who else? Whatever other beings she considered a friend had someone in their corner. Was it so much to ask for? Wanting what she was willing to give? 

Hydra knew that it wasn't and that maybe he had not understood that aspect of it all. She wanted love in equal measure (but she would accept more); that people displayed it differently was unknown to her. Hydra made most everything in her life understood with her teeth. The Ostrega was no wordsmith, eloquent though she could be. She was not made to comfort others, or be a shoulder to cry on. 

But at the core of it all, she heard him. He was willing to fight for her. There was still the issue of her own trust, but Hydra relented, some: I want to trust, she admitted, and then, I will try to, at least when it came to him. She had known Dirge for a long time; she understood his priorities, and though they were not here and now identical, she knew there would be a time they perfectly aligned. And until then, she would try. 

As far as things falling where they would, Hydra did not entirely agree with that—you got what you worked for. And you should get what you give. If not, then why bother giving it to that other person? Hydra knew now what a waste that was, and would not make that same mistake twice. 

With a sigh, Hydra drew nearer to him. Where have you settled? She asked then, deciding she would like to see it.