Moonspear do not be afraid to destroy

giant monologue incoming. xD

She corrects his assumption that no one thinks about all the risks, all the cons to being a lone wolf but her voice lacks condescending rebuke. She speaks of the dangers she has faced as a pack wolf and seeks to assure him that she doesn’t think he’ll feel restrained here. Drogon believes her. It’s just re-adjusting to pack life, and adjusting to Moonspear — so very different from Blackfeather Woods — that present challenge. He’s been a bit too feral for too long, ignorant of how a pack actually works …but he’s doing alright, so far ( from his point of view, anyway ) and that's something. Hydra continues on that she has lived here her whole life and speaks with an iron clad resolve that she will not leave, possibly not ever. Drogon is impressed — even more so than he already was by her. He wonders if he will ever know that kind of devotion and loyalty some day, if he is capable of it. Thus far, his track record isn’t the greatest and though he could summon any excuse under the sun the truth didn’t get any more simple: he’d been a runner. Though he could no longer tell whether he’d been running from something or towards something; and now that he is grounded he seeks to keep busy, afraid that if he does not occupy himself that the urge to bolt might overtake him again. He knows it has to stop. He cannot live his life on the run, he does not wish for that to be his future. He wants stability, he wants to matter and for others to matter to him. Maybe even a mate and kids someday, down the line. Most importantly, he wants a place where he belongs, a pack he can say with pride that he belongs to and wolves that he would give his life to protect if it became necessary.

“I’m from a place in the far north called Enok Tundra, and one day, I was probably no older than two or three months of age, I wandered out of the borders and into a neighboring territory. I got lost.” Because for the longest of time his sense of direction was awful and, of course, he’d been too young to have been near the borders let alone across them. “I was young and stupid. I lived like a rebellious prince but I knew better.” He wasn’t blaming his parents for it: he had known better, as he’d told her. He’d known better but he was stupid and had done it anyway thinking that he was safe. “A stranger came across me, promised to take me home when I told him I was from the pack that bordered the neutral territory. He lied. He brought me here and left me in a territory that borders Blackfeather Woods. I waited for him to return but he never did and if Nyx would not have found me and taken me under her wing I would have died of starvation.” He gives pause here to assess her for a moment before he continues on.

“That’s how I joined Blackfeather Woods. Owing a life debt, one that until I’d learned the truth of them had every intention of repaying and I wasn’t the only cub she’d collected. There was another boy, Neo. I’m not sure where he was from but we didn’t get along. He was at least civil for Nyx’s sake but I didn’t care. He was competition and he was going to get in my way.” He flashes a cheeky grin then and rolls his left shoulder in a lofty, partial shrug. “If I remember correctly the first time I met Neo was the first time I met the boy that attacked Rannoch. I didn’t get along with him either. Acting superior to me when we were on equal footing, both cubs that held the same rank. I suppose in that respects him and I were similiar. He told me that day that I didn't belong, that I was just an experiment for him and his siblings …whatever that was supposed to mean.” Even now the vague threats simmer his blood. “In Enok Tundra if you made threats, sought to make enemies you better be prepared to deliver on them. We are wolves bred for war but we are honorable.” Honor made all the difference, in his mind. “They value their secrets and they think their fortress of blood and corpses and their caves will protect them. Think they’re the big bad and that none will touch them. They’re arrogant in that regard. I’m surprised they didn’t send anyone after me to kill me given how prickly they are about keeping everything in the pack.” Perhaps because they think that any that manage to slip through their cracks will be too afraid to bring them war, to use their knowledge against them — at least, this is what Drogon hopes is the case; but, he is a true thespian because he has the distinct advantage of anonymity. Not just in name but also appearance. He looks completely different than he’d looked when Nyx had taken him in. There isn’t a drop of snowy, cream-puff fur in sight these days. It’s a punch in the gut when he peers at his reflection in a water’s surface though: he looks just like his mother.

“I adventured a lot after their true nature was revealed to me and one morning I left on an adventure and never went back. I travelled a bit with a few lone wolves here and there and for a smaller time with a pack trying to form but eventually I struck out on my own time and time again.” During his time as a lone wolf he’d been good at finding companions but never at keeping them. “And then you and your sister found me.” She knew the rest from there. Drogon isn’t sure what compels him to tell her everything, isn’t sure what it is about Hydra that makes him desire to tear down his carefully crafted walls, to want her to see all sides of him: even the part of him that is broken from the trauma he’d suffered as a child ( of his own accord, to an extent of course, but that does not mean it has not broken and rebuilt him all the same ).