Nocturne Summit she moved like the moon

His inquiry was unexpected, as was his tone; it served to temper the blade that her tongue could become. She did not blush or balk at her mother's admittance—of course she would know of him. He likely would not be surprised to hear of this himself. She was the leader of Moonspear, and once he had been their enemy. That Amekaze did not seek his life there would serve to inform him that he no longer was.

I am well, she is succinct, here and now. But she is curious, too. He had always interested her, perhaps in ways different than Alya. His capabilities, his restraint... even his lack of it, though Hydra enjoyed this only as it may suit and serve her. It might, today. Do you remember the wolf whose eye I took? she asked, the question posed in a casual manner, as though she were asking, what did you have for dinner last night? I have been told he is dead. Killed, she grinned. Hydra had, naturally, advised her mother and father of this as she had heard of it; she did not suspect her mother would reveal much of anything by way of emotion. Hydra matched her stoicism, then, as she continued: I only trust death when I see it for myself. If you find his corpse, will you bring my mother his head? Hydra did not ask this question in any other way; she imagined that if Vaati did find him living, he would make the bastard one simply to oblige in his own innate desires... and perhaps, partially, to please her—she thrilled at the thought. 

But Hydra thought more of Alya, here, than anything else. He had returned, and he had come here—but to what end? She suspected his rejoinder to her would reveal much as to the man he had become, and the role he wished to play in their lives from this point onward. She hungered for his maleficence, a trait she, too, harbored—a trait she wondered if they still shared.