Moonspear You can see your life out the window tonight

One ear twitched as she heard movement, rotating in the very direction Wraen shimmied and escaped from her badger burrow. The sound itself was not alarming, as Hydra knew by now the sound of fox or 'yote in the snow, as well as other creatures of the predatory variety. Her attention was not on what rest outside of the borders for long; the contemplative Hydra soon swung her head toward the direction of the slight commotion, and when she noted who made the ruckus her face broke into a smile, and she softened. 

Her transformations were, truly, astounding. She was soft in appearance; it was her personality that was sharp and hard. Her features might be considered cherubic; she was not, in any sense of the word, angular. She was not sylphlike or svelte; her physique was made for the fight as much as it was made for flight. It was suited for both, with her average build. What those closest to her understood was that she was as much a warm-hearted, loving woman as she was a weapon. 

Wraen, though, always seemed perpetually sweet and soft. But there was a wildness to her. Hydra related to that wildness; she knew that she and Wraen were similar in many ways, though also different. Hydra liked her; Alya and Lyra liked her, too. Hydra noted now how pretty Wraen was, her eyes a violently bright green, to Hydra—greener than any grass she had ever seen. Terance's green eyes were much darker. She was small, too, but oddly enough Hydra saw the girl as taller than she truly was—it was her personality. A personality Hydra had always remembered liking, at this point in time. 

The yearling, when greeted, chuffed to her friend in return, her plume swaying eagerly in a sweeping, happy wave. Wraen! she rejoined, pleased to see her. Hydra trotted in her direction, now smelling what Wraen must have. Noting the snow on her shoulders, Hydra recalled hearing her getting out of the hidey-hole. Find anything good in there?