Moonspear even if your hope has burned with time, anything that's dead shall be regrown

She understood every word, even if Galaxy couldn't speak anywhere near as eloquently as her elder sister just yet. There was a flicker of frustration at that—she couldn't talk as well as she wanted, couldn't hunt with the same prowess as Scion—but it didn't linger. Soon, she would be able to prove herself, not as someone reclaiming prior skills but as an entirely new wolf, a she-wolf, with a bright future before her.

"Pwactice," she echoed in agreement, lips smacking together as she eyed Hydra's mouth. The grasshopper had gone down the hatch. It wouldn't have been much of a meal anyway but the thought of food made Galaxy hungry. "Snack?" she requested with a wave of her whip-white tail, bright blue eyes smiling up at her sister.