Moonspear cerberus

Alya upon her right, Lyra to her left. Hydra responded dotingly toward Lyra, bestowing upon her a rough but affectionate nip. Alya spoke, and Hydra's ears turned cupped in her direction before her head turned, processing the words. Cypress—the boy that was the object of Alya's affections! He had not yet returned, and Hydra wondered at the distance between here and wherever it was he might live. Alya had not disclosed that information, but Hydra knew that if Alya had been told she would have. 

Her own news could wait, in favor of this. She did not know that they correlated, indirectly. 

We will help, Hydra decided. Three heads were better than one. What did he smell like? D'you remember? Hydra looked thoughtful for a moment. What do you mean, he doesn't know? And, knowing how much Alya enjoyed this, Hydra indulged: Tell us everything again. It's important to not leave out anything, Alya—it could also help us find him! Right, Lyra? She peered toward her left, an ear twitching. It was a rhetorical question, but there was no denying that she loved to be agreed with, especially aloud. Alya would agree for two reasons: one, she would get to tell the story of her brilliantly romantic escapade again, and two, there was the potential of them figuring something new out that could now assist them in their latest mission: Operation Cypress and Alya Reunite.