Moonspear oh, this empty thing i've done

Hydra did not seem to have preference over any of the cubs as she sought out which to take under her wing. Truth be told, she saw use in each of them—each cub seemed to have their own benefit. But Hydra did have a favorite, one she had determined to keep closest to her. She watched him, her young shadow, and was pleased with his progress and his displays. Of them all, she thought that Arcturus would find the most success in his life; he echoed all that she did, as no other Ostrega child had before, which meant his intelligence might be as her own. And his eyes were blue, as she and her favored and most beloved sisters. The death of Galaxy had cut at the Cerberus, and had effected Hydra, but what had come from this was another head.

She thrilled at this thought.

Hydra sought out her siblings, eager to steal one of them away for a brief break from her patrol. It was her shadow that she happened upon, and her hackles lifted as she noted his body language. The Ostrega bridged the distance between them in several long leaps, and sniffed at his withers without regard to his personal space. There was no external damage or scent of blood, and so she withdrew and circled him to stand before him.

Arcturus, she called, her ears pricking forward. What had happened? She had never seen him in such a fashion, and could not imagine what might make him behave in such a way short of some violence befalling him. Hydra often forgot that those that she observed were children, not machines, and as they grew would endure a multitude of challenging things.