Moonspear they want the old kanye
the bonecracker
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#1
@Alya and @Lyra
 

She moved toward the warm springs to bathe, wanting to at last wash herself free of the bullshit that had transpired. Her heart ached, but she willed a ceasefire for at least an hour. No cigar—she still felt her emotional hurts as she drifted into the warm waters.

Hydra was temperamental at present, relatively snappish to the nearness of others. Her grief was hers to bear for the second; she did not want to put her sourness on anyone.

She had loved Terance, really, she had. And she had genuinely cared about Rannoch. But she had not been wrong about Liffey, as it turned out. The blow delivered by the stupid harlot had been one Hydra did not at all expect, though. Hydra had been, truth be told, thrilled to see Liffey go. Decent though Rannoch was, his empty-sack-of-potatoes wife was nothing but dead weight and had nearly been cougar meat. Sustenance for a Greater Enemy. It took a real special sort of idiot to do that. So frankly, seeing her exit was a relief. 

There was more to it all that had transpired but, truth be told, here and now, Hydra did not want to think about it. So she held her breath and dipped her head beneath the water, enjoying the true silence being beneath the water brought, before she lifted her head. 

She sensed the nearness of @Alya then, who as of late who had been exploring when the storms had not struck. No doubt her emotional grief had come upon her radar. @Lyra too—who surely had debriefed Alya on Hydra's proverbial guillotine songs.
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#2
Alya drifted toward her sister with a peculiar feeling in her chest. Lyra, she knew, would only ever tell her the truth... but it seemed so strange. Their scents were still everywhere, as if Terance or Wraen might be just around the corner or napping in their dens. But they wouldn't be.

They were gone.

The dark woman did not know what she was seeking Hydra for. To comfort her, perhaps. To ask question, seek resolution. But when she reached the hotsprings and saw her strong leader in the water, beautiful as every but irrevocably changed, Alya could do nothing but gasp against the sudden onslaught of pain. The peculiar feeling shifted without warning into grief, and the woman found herself biting back tears and whimpers in spite of herself.

Another portion of her surprising reserve of innocence chipped away. Sometimes, things worse than death took your loved ones away.
i can't help but be my own god
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#3
Just like that, they left.

She had heard the howl Hydra released upon Rannoch departing the mountain and sought her out immediately. She had to hear the news face-to-face. Yet it was no less crushing or inexplicable - perhaps even more so. She hadn't wanted to believe Hydra at first, thinking she was pulling some sort of sick joke, but there had been a seriousness in her gaze that left a sinking feeling within the pit of her stomach. Her sister was not one to lie. Rannoch and Liffey had left, and they had taken Terance and Wraen with them. Why, why, why.

Alya was informed next. A breathless exchange of words before Lyra excused herself to spend some time alone to process the news. She half hoped she would come across Terance, though had no idea what she would do. She wanted to scream and hurt him just as he was hurting her, but also wanted to plead that he stay, that he was making a mistake. The conflicting emotions incited a panic within her chest, and the girl started heading in the direction some subconscious feeling was drawing her to.

She suddenly found herself standing before her sisters, and took a moment to simply stare at them. Hydra, composed and calm on the surface, the sleek darkness of her fur glistening from Moonspear's waters, and Alya, her smile that hid a thousand secrets masked beneath a look of pain. The two she knew in her heart of hearts would never betray her. Who knew the meaning of family. She did not blame them one bit; they three were the innocent party in all of this.

Lyra stalked forward, the bristled fur at her neck forming spires that told of her barely contained fury. She felt curses and expletives build in her throat but she bit her tongue in favour of Hydra speaking first. So, the girl waited, pacing back and forth along the edge of the spring, leaving in her wake deep claw marks upon the ground.
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#4
Though her heart ached, though she mourned and felt sadness, her cold and calculating fury had dug its roots into her stomach and its thick stalk had pierced her heart. Hatred within nourished it. She felt Alya there, and soon Lyra—the sound emitted from the former caused the poisonous thing within to bloom, and she choked out the words with terrible composure. They will pay, Hydra breathed. The chinks in her armor they had left in their wake had been replaced with sharp barbs; in looking at the faces of both her sisters, she was composed. I do not care how long it takes. Perhaps I will let them forget our faces first, she entertained, looking from one face to the other.

The only thing that settled her now were them, Alya and Lyra, and their like-minds. She would trust no other as she did them as long as she lived. 

Hydra turned within the water so as to face them. Hydra would ensure her hurt was not for naught. She would bring Rannoch and Liffey to their knees for this. but I will not forget how they betrayed our friendship and kindness. They had, after all, decided to let Liffey have her breathing space here. They should have chucked her off the mountain after all, it seemed. And Rannoch, her witless husband. What a moron. She pictured them finding her sisters killer out in the wilds and befriending him. It sickened her—they sickened her. Loathsome, self-serving liars

No, Hydra would never forget. The pain she had felt was palpable, a hurt she had not felt and a hurt she should never like to feel again. She hadn't any idea how, yet, but Hydra was a firm believer in karma. Things would work themselves out, and the answers would fall into their lap as they often did.
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#5
Alya sucked in a steadying breath. She knew she could cry in front of her sisters, if she needed to, but she did not want to cry over this. Part of her felt as though this was her own fault, while another thought it was just grossly unfair. "I'm tired of being angry," said Alya, "and sad. I'm tired of being tired. I know we can't just let this go, but... can we just wait?"

She looked hopefully between the pair. "I don't want to think about another vendetta. Not yet. Good riddance. Let's celebrate, okay? And when... when we're not pretending to be happy anymore, then we can get them back."

Alya turned her head away. "I'm just not ready. Not yet."
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#6
Although possessing a fierce temper when enraged, Hydra also knew when to remain calm and collected. She was the balance to Lyra's own flurry of emotions that threatened to bubble over and turn into a blind rage. She accepted her sister's suggestion with a solemn nod, agreeing that letting them forget their faces before launching their assault was perhaps for the best. However, the betrayal she felt was still white hot and the thought of revenge was ever so tempting. She wanted to hunt them down, make them feel real fear, to finish the job Vaati had started all those months ago.

To think they had helped that traitorous man. And then took his wife into their fold. Gave them shelter and protection only for them to turn around and poach two others from their family. Lyra felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes as she thought of Terance. He was just as bad as Rannoch. Whatever feelings she had for him had died the moment he had decided to turn his back on Moonspear. On her. She hoped they all perished on their journey to whatever paradise they thought awaited them.

She noticed the muscles of her shoulders had contracted so much they had begun to ache and, with an audible exhale, Lyra released the tension. It would do her no good to stay as mad as she was. She took a leaf from Hydra's book and inhaled again, feeling the ground of their mountain beneath her paws and knowing this was the only place that she owed any loyalty to. Moonspear and her family. Her two mirror image siblings in particular. Alya's words tugged at her heart strings and the girl swept forward with an empathetic whine, seeking to comfort her sister who seemed utterly defeated. She dug her muzzle into the thick fur of their scout's neck as they had done so many times for her, hoping to ease her worries and celebrate this moment in time where the mountain was rid of traitors and backstabbers and revel in each other's company.

"We will wait," Lyra agreed, her toneless words laced with venom. "It will make revenge that much sweeter."
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#7
Hydra fell mute as Alya spoke, her own emotions running wild despite her stoic expression. That would be no mystery to either of her mirror images. They knew her as they knew themselves. There was no hiding anything; each intricate habit they had was known, from the nuanced (imperceptible-to-others-but-not-them) upturn of the corner of their mouth to other more severe and obvious reactions that were the opposite of what they felt despite their passionate display.

She felt for her right-hand. Like Hydra, Alya had befriended and trusted these wolves... and they were betrayed, for a foul, yellow-bellied creature. Despite her sisters stance, and despite her true compassion, Hydra felt her savage anger flare with the singular thought: we should have killed him! She was angry. She was tired of feeling such a way, too. It was unfair; they had been good friends to them, helpful, they had done everything right.

Their friends had not even spoken with them of their issues.

Hydra wanted to react. She wanted to deal with this problem as she dealt with all the rest. Violence was her answer, but not against them—against their place within her heart. How could she have meant so little to these wolves that had meant what they had to her? She wanted to banish them from her mind.

But she understood. They had been through so much in this year alone, and few moments had been good. As Hydra thought of it, casting aside memories with those that betrayed them, the good stood before her. It hurt to hear Alya speak of pretending, though Hydra knew the word was not off-base between the three of them. Like it or not, Terance, Rannoch, and Wraen had each been liked.

Once.

We should celebrate, Hydra agreed, lifting her head, morphing from irate to thoughtful. Alya's positive spin, though spoken through her sadness, had her thinking. Hydra waded out of the warm waters so that she could be nearer to them both. They had thought Rannoch to be spineless and soft amongst themselves anyhow, and Wraen to be a bit... strange, in her own way, and Terance, well, they had all agreed that he could do with being a man; his leaving was the opposite of that, so at least they truly could cut their losses without thinking on 'might have been'—at the end of the day, Moonspear would have ended off worse with them there.

Hydra looked between the two of them.

With a little laugh, she said, you know, honestly, I don't think we will need to do anything at all, though she wanted to. Could you imagine them, as their own pack? They were content with wolves killing children, after all. At least, it had seemed that way, though they had never said as much... it was then the discontent was somewhat palpable, but no one had said anything except for Wraen, who had seemed to understand completely why they had done what they had.

Not one of them was willing to do what was necessary in order to protect their own, protect their future—she imagined it would be a remarkably short-lived experience, perhaps literally as well as figuratively.

She grinned.
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#8
Alya let out a huff of relief, knocking her head against Hydra's chest when she came out of the water. She was glad that the other two weren't angry with her, and hadn't accused her of being weak. She still felt it, though, and wished that she were just a little bit stronger.

"Thanks," she said, passing a meaningful look between the two of them. "Thank you, I just - urgh. It's been awful lately, hasn't it?"

A bleak laughed escaped her. Feelings she'd been bottling up suddenly came pouring out. "I've just been so fucking sad lately. It's awful. Everything feels heavy, and I can't stop thinking about Axy. And now Vaati is probably dead - why do all our boyfriends die or desert or disappear?"

She shook her head. "I should have taken that trip when I had the chance. I mean - of course I shouldn't have. I'm glad I was here for everyone, and that I got that extra time with Galaxy... but sometimes I almost wish I could've skipped it all. Does that make me awful?"
i can't help but be my own god
these violent delights
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#9
She looked up as Hydra emerged from the waters, the mood easing a little as her sister pondered on the traitorous pack's downfall with a laugh. Lyra's own scowl lightened, and she let out a huff of a giggle, feeling better with the fact that they could just simply stand idly by and watch. Let the pack crumble at the slightest hint of conflict; its leadership had proven themselves weak anyway. She did not doubt their followers would flee, just as they always did. Perhaps they could speed up the process with some help from Blackfeather...

Alya spoke then, her words striking a chord. Her sadness affected her siblings just as much as it did herself, and Lyra let out a soft whine at an attempt to comfort her, wincing at the thought of Galaxy. Their poor, sweet sister. They had gotten their revenge, made even, but it didn't feel enough for Lyra. And now it was all too possible that they had taken Vaati from them too? They should have killed that screeching boy. She respected Hydra's decision, however, and so reeled in the seething fury she had towards the Redhawk child and his pack.

She gave Alya her full attention as she let out her distress, staring at her sister with a profound love but confliction written clearly on her features. She only wanted what was best for them, for them to do what they decided, but she secretly never wanted her sister to leave. They were a trio. Screw the rest. "Not at all," Lyra hummed, moving to touch her nose to Alya's shoulder once more. It was understandable, that she wished she could have just bypassed all this tragedy; Lyra wished she could have to. However, she believed they were all the more stronger for having been through it.

They were Ostregas, and they were resilient.
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#10
Alya's question was met with a thoughtful look and a firm shake of her head. It needed no real thought, after all. And though she knew precisely Lyra's thoughts, Hydra knew she and her mirror image were Alya's beacon and would ever be her home. Wherever her paws guided Alya, she would return—and Hydra knew that Alya needed freedom, perhaps now more than ever. 

And so Hydra took a step toward her, nosing her. If the opportunity presents itself, take it, Alya, she hummed, there is no danger we cannot face. Alone, or together. For the Cerberus were independently formidable. Together, victory was simply a guarantee. She sighed, the sound soft. That boy should know better than to lurk here anymore. We'll kill him if he does, there was nothing stopping them anymore. And truth be told, she only meant if he did it again in an offensive timeframe. That he deliberately disobeyed her warranted it. Perhaps they should have killed him when they had the chance. Or perhaps they really would take a firstborn. Whatever they preferred at this point. Her mind was erratic, but at its forefront was her pride and her sisters wellbeing. 

As far as the deserters? Hydra looked back to Lyra, and admitted, I'd say it all happened to show us all how boys are meant more for fun than for anything else. Anything more... well, it hurt, but she felt more along the lines of 'waste of time'. Hydra would admit boys had their uses, but they couldn't be counted on (with the exception of her family). Her blue eyes turned to Alya. I don't think Vaati is dead. He is probably in hiding. Blackfeather lost—no doubt he was blamed for it, which maybe he deserved, a little, for ever having come against them at all. The Cerberus had played their own hand in such a thing. 

She did not think he was dead. No. Vaati, time and time again, fled death. If he were to die, they would know it; they would be the bringer of it, after all. It was no part of their grand plan, and so it simply was not so. Maybe on your journey, you will find him, she hummed, encouraging the idea and the thought.

But if she didn't? Hydra turned to her and administered an adoring nip to her shoulder, before spinning and lunging at Lyra to do much the same to her cheek. Her somber attitude had fast shifted in the presence of the only two wolves she would ever need, and she recognized that all she needed in this life was them.
I'll find that you'll find that I'm lethal