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

Hydra squeezed his throat as he struggled to silence him, up until the moment he fell limp in her jaws. She withdrew then, observing him—ah, still breathing, good. She had only knocked him out. Hydra was unaware that one could do that, but it was good knowledge to know. Hydra turned on her heel, not stepping on the whole of the eyeball but stepping on some of it—it did not yet detach and rolled toward Lyra as Hydra again heeded Vaati. 

She licked her chops. I am sure you know that we are not the only wolves that had been after you, she informed. I would leave your forest if I were you. But that, like this wolf, I leave to you... he looked woozy; she was certain his interest would be on preserving his own life and returning home before it would be killing Titmouse at this point. Titmouse, the wolf she had let survive; it was a thing she permitted for more than one reason. Messy, maybe—but one would be very foolish not to assume that Hydra had not thought this out. After all, she had wanted Titmouse for a while now. To not kill him? A calculated risk. One she knew, at the end of the day, to be worth it. 

Dead men couldn't talk, and there was a neatness to that Hydra could appreciate. That everyone knew Hydra could appreciate. And therein lay the crux of it. But, if Vaati wanted to kill him? He could do as he pleased. The pissant had, after all, killed Galaxy. He deserved death. To stay her own hand was difficult. 

Hydra gave him a once over. Are you able to return home? Without assistance? An ear flick. She wondered; he did not look in great shape.