Moonspear when people become numbers

Hydra had ample experience in sparring with her sisters, and was gaining more from sparring with her father when she could. She wanted to become the best of the best—that was truly where her ambition rest. As her mother spoke of a lot of learning to fight was practice, Hydra supposed she ought to spar even more than she already did. She nodded to show that she understood what she was being told, and then her mothers inquiry, and gesture, spurred her into immediate movement. 

No hesitation was one of the first things that she had learned, no warning. It was an advantage she consistently held over her siblings—and sometimes, her dominant nature had her lash out at them to remind them that she was the head, and though they could become her as she could become them this was her own place. No sister was better than the other, that was not what her behavior insinuated; it was simply nature, at its most basic. 

She did not lunge for her mothers front, but instead moved to her rear, reminded of what her father had said. Though her mothers stature was not so large as her fathers, and in fact was more like her own, Hydra knew that getting her mother into movement was the best way to begin things. Her own speed surprised her as she feinted forward, behaving as though she intended to grip her mothers hock, before she withdrew sharply to move to her mothers other side in preparation for her next maneuver. Her defenses were set, though likely not so set as one with ample experience—still, her chin was draped over her throat and her lobes remained flat atop her head, though now and again they lifted upward to listen for movement, or verbal advice.