Moonspear who's they, anyway?

Though she was rarely without them nearby, this moment in time saw it that way. But, as she always would, she sensed one of her counterparts nearby; it was her seventh sense, a far more comforting feeling than the prickling unease one felt through their sixth. Hydra could have done many things to throw her mirror images off of her own path in particular, but the head of the beast would not do so this hour; she would permit her left hand to know who it was that came for her, should she be wise to it. She did not bother to mute her steps; there would be little point when it came to Lyra and Alya. 

Her strides were long as she ascended, and her muscles coiled as she now began to make her way down with a spring, tail held loftily above her hindquarters. In her peripheral she sensed @Alya, and the air was electric as her pace quickened. Their brand of tag was not without its danger, and it was this very game that caused Liffey to lose sleep at night. It was easy for them to forget that not everyone grew up upon this mountain when they only ever played it with wolves that had. 

Hydra caught sight of Lyra, then, and she heard Alya's cackle; a terrible grin split her own features as she made to bridge the gap that was left remaining between them.