Moonspear Rush in, we have to rally and win boys

Hydra blinked at his words, more than a little bewildered. Yes, we do, she responded immediately, without missing a beat. Do you think if he didn't, if I didn't, you would be able to even look at the cubs? That I would be your friend? She scoffed. Hydra would never befriend anyone she did not trust; 'friends close, enemies closer' was something Hydra did not abide by. 

His inquiries shocked and stilled her tongue, though only because they were unexpected to her. She had not heard that name in many moons and would have been happy to never hear of it again. His sudden vitriol toward her made sense, and a lot of things occurred to Hydra at once—but none of these thoughts led her to think she had ever been wrong about Gannet. 

I did let him go, she said, slowly. He did come back. Not here—but too close, too soon. Gannet, I wanted to kill him, she explained, but he is your brother, and you believe he is somehow innocent, despite the damning evidence, despite her own knowing. He did not listen to reason, so perhaps he would to force. I needed him away, far away, for him to stay alive. Do you know what else I did, to make sure that happened, against my better judgment? She asked, I told him to stay away from the Caldera. Because if my father caught wind of him there, he would do it, and if your sister did not give him up, he would have wanted war. Hydra bristled. I saw Galaxy die, and I watched him flee from her still warm body without a sound. What innocent would run before they called for help? Her ears pricked forward, and she looked at Gannet, demanding an answer, demanding that he help her understand his own logic here, because for the life of her Hydra, in all the time that had passed, could not make sense of it even still.