Nocturne Summit the spine can't decide between the earth and the sky

Hydra has determined to spend less time outside of Moonspear, as her siblings were of the wandering age. Still, she felt in her bones that one last look around was necessary. The one-eyed menace was dimwitted, and he frequently tested his luck. Her banishment of him from this Wilderness was done for selfless and selfish reasons alike. If the Caldera, now gone, had taken him in and her parents had found this out, it would have been another war. She did not want that for Towhee, who ought to of had a choice in the matter—but she had been young and irrational both. Now, she was perhaps simply the latter. 

She did not smell him here, or anywhere she had covered yet. Hydra lingered briefly on the edge of a ridge, watchful of her surroundings—the sight of a pale male nearby caught her attention, and now her blue eyes remained upon his person. A summer breeze swept past her, no doubt spreading her own scent to inform him of her presence. She was not in the business of hiding it, either; she made her way down, swiftly but with learned precision, and observed his blank canvas. 

Not Vaati, then. 

Her hackles flattened, and she chuffed lowly to him, ears flattening for a brief moment in apology. The large man was impressive in bulk, as the Blackfeather wolf had been, but carried different scars than him—ones she could not see yet, though certainly ones not earned by her. She remained where she was, not wanting to press him or have him perceive her as a threat (which, initially, she may have seemed). Though she did not seek friends in strangers as she once had, she also did not seek enemies.