Moonspear Rush in, we have to rally and win boys

Hydra shifted her weight as he spoke, and she waited for him to finish before she responded again herself. Her not letting him go home was for his life, and more than that, for the friendships she had forged with the Redhawks independent of pack alliance. I am a leader, Gannet—I thought of more than just his life when I told him not to go there, she reiterated, blinking slowly at him. And if it were your defenseless sibling who had died in similar circumstances, I would not judge you for what you did. I understand he is your family, and so you will defend him, and I do not begrudge you that. She admitted this freely. Though she thought Gannet to be blinder than the one-eyed Titmouse for his misplaced loyalty to a monster, family was as important to her as it was to him. Except for that bastard, Hydra liked the Redhawks. 

Hydra did not expect him to agree with her at every turn, but she also did not expect this utter lack of understanding. Then again... he had not seen it from her eyes. He might never understand. And truly, she did not need or want for him to. This was her friend, and it hurt her to see him look at her as he did. One day, Gannet, she began, you might know your brother to be the monster that I saw that day. But know that I do not wish that. She had wished those wounds were fatal. But somehow, the guilty lived while the innocent survived. Life was cruel. The way he looked at her hurt, too, but she did not feel wrong or guilty for her actions. No, losing his eye was the least Titmouse could do for his actions. He deserved far more than just that. 

Hydra was not a pacifist and did not seek to mollify or make right what she had done. There was only one way she could have, and that would be ridding the world of Titmouse when she had an opportunity to. Rannoch, Liffey, Gannet, and those that sought to defend him would carry the burden of the havoc he wrought unto the wilds. For them, he still lived and breathed.