Neverwinter Forest up in smoke

The man who pissed his pants was, to put it in the nicest way she could perceive it, an imbecile. Hydra had warned him. Warned him because her mother or father would surely end him if they caught wind or sight of him. Hydra's intent would have been to drive him away, but her mother had come upon him, and now she knew his face. He was one lucky bastard, though. Her mother exhibited restraint and control for surely the same reasons she did—those that still lived. But her father would do no such thing. And at the end of the day, Hydra was his daughter, as much his as she was Amekaze's, and she had no qualms at all in falling into his violent whims when it was so well-deserved, regardless of the lack of satisfaction she would gain from it.

Her ear twitched as Sorina whined. Her gaze turned to her, and without mocking or amusement, Hydra asked: you do not think it ever will? Sure, it did not effect Sorina here and now... but were Sorina to have been holding the reins, and to try and protect him despite his crimes while she was holding those reins, the blame would fall onto her shoulders, too. It went without saying that if Sorina did not care that she ought to step away from this situation, at the least; this had nothing to do with her.

And then the scent of piss came. Her eyes had not fallen from Sorina, and though she could appreciate her motive, she had, unfortunately, selected the wrong man for it. Hydra had never used a wolf in her life, though personally could not see an appeal in it given she had no need to. She heard her mothers words, his true Final Warning; he had not respected the families grieving period, or Hydra's words. Hydra would move to action should Titmouse think to retaliate, or should Sorina try to throw herself in the mix. 

Hydra was observant of her surroundings, falling into a defensive position herself in preparation.