Moonspear we receive you

His words were wise, and Hydra nodded to them. Smart, she complimented. On, or off, the borders, it seemed like sound advice to follow. She didn't know it was his late mother that had given it to him. She decided she would ask him more advice next time; it seemed, or sounded like, his throat hurt as he continued to speak. A mark the nameless dude had left.

I guess you never know when to trust a wolf, she said with a huff. Which was strange... Hydra decided that, other than the wolves she knew, she didn't really need to know anyone else. Moonspear was home, and she had all she cared about here. Though Alya would be leaving, soon... well, no matter; Hydra would fetch her before long anyhow. 

What did she look like? she pressed next. Nyx. Feathery woods. And the scent of death and feathers. Her father would appreciate this intel, she imagined. The "feathery woods" matched the peculiar scent description, at least... feathers being a scent the man had carried. No, I haven't. Sounds like a place best avoided. Would Nyx want you hurt...?