Moonspear And into the fire we go

Hydra watched Liffey go, not sorry to see it so but looking as though she might. Once she got out of dodge, Hydra blinked. I got here at an awkward time, too. Was it you, or Liffey wondering why my dad asked you to join us? She asked Gannet, not wanting to take words out of his mouth or even manipulate the situation. It was shitty walking into something and not knowing what the hell was going on. Shittier still when you were the leader of the pack. Her head swung back to her father, once Gannet offered his response. And then she wanted to know about Gannet's longevity here.

After a beat, she said, I said to ask you. Don't know why she didn't, but maybe without me here she will, Hydra shrugged. It was an overall weird as fuck situation. Hydra felt the same as her father did. Other wolves were swallowing up drama that literally had nothing to do with them. Emotional morons.

He had no idea what was going on. There was too much subtext, and Gannet didn't do subtle on any level. Drama, duplicity; all of it was above and beyond him, and suddenly, Gannet wasn't hugely interested in participating in this conversation any longer. He felt inexplicably forced into the middle of something unknown, and it killed any bit of the joy he'd felt only a short bit ago.

His ears tipped back when Hydra asked the question, and for the first time, he felt a touch of annoyance. It was an unwelcome emotion, and likely unfair, but her interruption had started the chaos, and it had resulted in Liffey running away with barely a goodbye.

"It doesn't matter." He said quietly. Then, with a slight lowering of respect to Charon, he turned, clearly indicating his desire to leave as well.

Much like Gannet, Charon didn't really understand what the fuck was going on. Something, obviously, but not what. Hydra gave some of the answers, something about Liffey questioning things surrounding Gannet joining the Moonspear.

Gannet himself seemed withdrawn and Charon himself was getting quite done with the tense situation at hand. With a frustrated huff he said, "let's go for a patrol," to Hydra and nosed her shoulder. "See you later," Charon offered to Gannet, forcing a semi-pleasant tone to his voice before he departed for the borders, presumably with his daughter in tow.

He said it didn't matter. That answered that—Liffey. Hydra frowned at Gannet's reaction, not understanding it herself; for her own part, she'd been as straightforward as ever. If Liffey didn't think now was a good time to talk to her father, she was not going to force her to—hell, maybe she'd been satisfied by it all. No, she knew she hadn't been—not with the way she left and suggested she and her father speak another time. Liffey leaving without a goodbye was her choice in reaction, not Hydra's, though she did not know that Gannet blamed her at all for that.

As Gannet dipped his head lower to Charon in respect, Hydra observed him go, her frown deepening. She looked to the food he had let go, and back to him, and felt her heart sink. It had been a gift. Hydra did not take pity on him for his injury, so she would not have minded him going, but it had been she who had crashed the party. In the spirit of taking responsibility, Hydra nodded to her father. She hoped Gannet would at least cache the things she had brought him, and would come back to check later she supposed, not wanting to risk predators going for them.

See you. She echoed her father, and followed after him.

When they didn't stop him, Gannet did indeed depart, leaving Hydra's gift behind. He was bummed that her presence had chased Liffey away, and he was bummed her reaction had been what it was. The confusion and stress soured his mood and his appetite, and he couldn't hang out anymore right that moment.

Shortly after, however, he would return to collect it, and feel guilty about the way he had left earlier. Hopefully they understood it wasn't personal.