Firefly Glen the mysterious ticking noise

Do it. 

The movement is quick and deft; her fangs are against his shoulder and she rips away from him, fangs behaving every bit a swiping knife as blood spatters their surroundings. She looks it over and nods, satisfied for the moment. I would not leave your home if I were you in the days to come. As I said, many seek your head, she forewarned. Moonspear cannot aid you in this battle. But if truly the Caldera sought a war, he would understand that one defeat did not mean, in the end, he would not turn out to be victorious. Your only option to win is to play the coward. Leave. Hide. Whatever it takes. Just do not die, she pressed, her own ears thrust forward and her voice thick with passion. All is fair in love and war.

And was this not war? Did she not love it?

Towhee and Gannet would be alright. The rest... Who cared? Her father had described them as imbeciles, and as they had produced Titmouse and Liffey, how could she refute that? Hydra needed time to think, but she had that on her side at least. At the very least, she and Vaati had an understanding. A relationship that was mutually beneficial to their own ultimate ends. If you have taken a wolf named Phox, I would advise that you release him, or she'd kill him, really. Her bonds with Towhee were such that she owed her friend that. Towhee had seemed willing to offer Titmouse to her, but he was not home. Hydra knew where he really was; Towhee knew that she would get her revenge. Phox? If he was held by Blackfeather, he could be saved.

She trusted Vaati to do the right thing; the smart thing. They had reached a great understanding, the two of them. Her eyes held him, appreciative of the circumstances that led them to this point. That would lead them, inevitably, to victory. She was possessive over the male before her now, as Alya was; she was inclined to see him live past this and if she had her way, she would. 

Run, she commanded then, awakened by the blood. She would chase him for a short time through the wood and bleed him once more. The wound she delivered was a superficial one that would heal in days, and the final blow would be much the same. 

But it needed to be believable. He would understand. Hydra grinned wolfishly to him and loosed a guttural snarl. If he wanted a headstart, he would have had to start his running the instant she demanded it; Hydra again threw herself toward him, teeth first. 

All that Hydra did, she did for love.