The Heartwood man was born to sin, set him free and he will be a sinner

They circled like sharks as their warrior sister fought the silver-haired demon, vigilant sentinels ready to alert the lead head of the Cerberus should anything go awry. They roamed in the shadows, just out of sight of the warring wolves, passing each other and exchanging glances as they did so — Lyra's downcast, anxious gaze contrasting Alya's roguish, almost playful one. Sounds of the skirmish, the snarls and tearing of flesh, set her on edge and the girl was eager to check on their sister. Hydra's command of them to stay and guard overrode her worry, however, along with Alya's soothing murmurs as they prowled the area.

Her ears twisted forward as the noises subsided, and the dark girl's voice rang out, victorious. Our score is settled. Lyra breathed a sigh of relief, catching Vaati's faint but baffled words. She would have been more pleased to see him dead, bleeding out at their feet, but she knew Hydra had plans for him yet. Her lust for revenge for Rannoch had died out — he was family, that was it — only for it to be replaced with a new seething hatred for the cowardly boy who had run from them. He was still guilty of murder, to the Cerberus, the how and why was not of importance. The fact that he had done it (in their eyes, misguided as they were) was enough.

And speak of the devil.

A rustling of leaves underfoot caught her attention and the two sisters stopped in their tracks to see a boy, standing stock still with wide eyes trained on the scene before them. The fur along Lyra's spine bristled, and she let out something akin to a hiss, the very sight of him eliciting a visceral response. She would have slit his throat then and there if not for Alya's sudden sweeping movement forward, the spark in her eyes communicating what was to be done. They both let out a soft chitter, one after the other, to signal the appearance of the interloper to Hydra, knowing she would understand it. Lyra reigned in her fury, coming up beside the startled boy with a barely restrained snap of her jaws. He moved obediently while between them, his gait hesitant and slow.

When they emerged from the shadows, they then thrust him harshly before the judge and executioner, their own forms now encircling the convicted. Lyra's heart hammered in her chest so loud she worried the others would be able to hear, excitement coursing through her veins. Yet for all the emotions stirring underneath, her face remained still, calm. This was not over until this loud one was brought to justice for his crimes against Moonspear.