Moonspear do you speak?

Family had a firm grip of Moonspear, which was mainly ruled by Ostregas.. Desdemona had her own nightmares about family, majorily concerning her sister, and her two brothers. She preferred to keep the past behind, wishing to start anew, her loyalty being placed upon wolves who are worthy, but there was still regrets, haunting her dreams. She thought about her own family, and her.. Ugly origins.

Othello and Venetian, the spider wished she where they had gone, but also knew they didn't wish to see her. Desdemona was afraid to see them, but they still sought out in her dreams. Even if she thought of family now, she had none. She did not know who to call a friend, and a mate? There was no one she wished to taint with her blood; children wasn't an option.

She felt alone.

What haunted Desdemona, Hydra did not know; were she to, she would wish to chase the loneliness away with snapping teeth so that it would burden her subordinate no longer. True that she had family, true that she loved them—but her pack was her family by extension. Long-legged limbs brought her to the brown she-wolf, and the bright-eyed Hydra was refreshed from a vigorous run that she was not too keen to finish with just yet. 

Snow flew all around her as she rushed to Desdemona, a huffing laugh coming from her as she moved to reach for Desdemona in a fiendish nip to anything within reach (with no power at all behind it); she simply wanted to entice her subordinate to join her in this run, or perhaps a game of chase. Her blood ran hot with it as her heartbeat thud heavily in her ears; the chill of the season had no impact on the matriarch, who chased away all bothersome things with the vigor she now displayed as she surged away from Desdemona with a sweep of her plume.

Pearls almost seem to fall from the dark figure, so unsuited to someone so cold-hearted, a smile was never to be seen. Only once did she smile, and that was with the feeling of acceptance, only for that feeling to be betrayed when he had left Morningside to hunt for some woman, and to leave it to the void. Now of sorrow, would come forth- but she felt the nip of someone, and restrained the falls. Sound of laughter whispered into her ears, as she glanced at the figure.

The Queen enticed the spider to a dance, a running of the two, and she joined without words to be spoken. She felt a surge of emotions mix between as the two would follow around the mountains terrian as legs ran with force; anger, sorrow, happiness that was quick to flee... All that she had previously gained, and lost once more. But why blame them, when she left first? Why blame anyone, when she was always at fault? Morningside, her brothers and sister, her mother.. All fell upon her head, a guilt Desdemona should always bare and to keep in mind.

She is nothing but a bastard to the world.

Hydra surged forward. Any of her own pent up energies were quick to be released with every drumbeat of her stride. Dundundun, dundundun, dundundun—the light-weight of her paws hitting against the snowladen earth was scarcely heard against the heartbeat that she imagined she heard in her ears as her blood roared with the vitality of her coming season. Her ire, her aggravation, her old hatreds seemed to be stripped with every step as she ran. 

Then and there, she was nothing but wolf. Wild, free, untameable energy that lived for this run. This was as close to flying as one could get; they could reach the sky if they climbed a little higher. It was as though her paws did not even strike the ground as her pace increased; this was joy, this was bliss! This was peace. Her ears cupped backward as she went—could Desdemona feel this too?

Her counterpart was of joy, seen through her confident strides while running through the earth, so wild and free. And so, unlike herself. She felt so trapped, so empty and contained, bounded by what she was born to, something Desdemona didn't ask! The regrets she shown, the ones who shared the same traits, the same fate, yet she did not help them in their needs. The world looked like a blurr, the spider could feel wetness cross upon her fur as the wind stole away the tears, but she was never fast enough to run away from them.

Desdemona wished she could change the past, protect the brother, and save her sister, to pay attention to her brother before he had left! He was there somewhere- cursing her and their heritage, just as she has done. Perhaps he was somewhere better, with family.. A family she didn't deserve. Perhaps her sister was the same, the lovely sister who deserved it all. Yet, her other brother, still laid in the earth. She should be there.

Why couldn't she be there.

Onward she pressed! Each conscious thought just a simple little wave that found no end, no beginning; bliss. The furs between her shoulderblades were as unkempt as her mothers were, tossed and turned by the winds she cut through. Hydra changed their course so that the wind was then at their back—running against it was not easy work, and Hydra would not subject Desdemona to work while she intended, for a brief time, to play—

She slowed to meet her in her strides, turning to look at her counterpart. It was then Hydra observed that Desdemona was not in the same mindset as she herself was. Let it all go for now, Hydra encouraged, whatever it is—release yourself while you run. You are in control, the matriarch rumbled while running, turning then to look to the path ahead.

"It does not feel like I am." Her words hissed with a pulling toward a cry, but she held firm. Desdemona couldn't remember the last time she had felt this way, perhaps it was when her mother had passed. She remained stone-cold, ever since, even when her brother had passed, there was no tears shed, only regret, and hatefulness toward home.

Perhaps all the emotions she held was finally spilling over, all what she had was, was now coming forward. She only wished to yell, and let it forth. Faster, she felt, stronger, did she go. Her legs burned with each stride, but she wanted to let it go. Let it be free, but it felt hard. A howl of sorrow, of anger and needing.

However as she ran, she didn't know what was ahead.. Just darkness, she ran.

Hydra heard the words spoken, and after a few strides more the matriarch slowed. She could sense the distress, and begrudgingly knew what she ought to do. Hydra had once wondered why it was always her, a wolf not at all made to stand mental turmoil, who seemed to come across those within turmoil when she was not at all equipped to assist there. No, not simply once—she still did, truth be told. But for her pack and family alone, she would always make the effort to be what it was they needed. Hydra could not stand to see those she cared for hurting, and it was all too evident that Desdemona was. 

So she slowed, her gaits shifting up until she was in a walk. Her blue eyes were searching upon her subordinate and she withheld a sigh. Hydra's tail lashed behind her as she wondered how best to be there. As ever, Hydra decided she could listen. But to listen, Desdemona would need to speak. To be open to share. What has got you feeling no longer in control? Hydra asked then, voice not absent of her own concern for the spidery she-wolf.