The Heartwood i'm faithless now though we win

Hydra ranged from home to explore the Glen, as she sometimes would. It was only when she neared the Lake that she was given pause, scenting a myriad of scents there... one she imagined was more familiar than the rest. She was not certain; she wanted to investigate it more. In the cover of the night, the woman drifted, giving the territory berth. Intermittently that familiar scent would niggle at her mind, but it was not one that lingered or had her thinking, here and now, it took residence here. 

The thought caused her plume to stir, swaying idly near her hocks, before she entered the cover of the forest. 

No scent was present here that revealed anything she sought, but she darted only along its fringes to see if her eyes could catch anything familiar. One ear swiveled backward as she heard the sharp inhalation that betrayed there was another here, though she could not yet see them. Hydra was mute as she approached, determined to keep herself out of sight until she knew who it was she would be dealing with this evening. 

What, or who, she discovered was not at all what she expected, and had nothing to do with any of the scents that had captured her interest to begin with. She looked beyond him with a sharp gaze, assessing if there had been something he had fled from. But there was nothing, no one. A sharp sniff of her own indicated there was no blood on his person, and so she was confounded as she looked upon him. What is it? she asked then, not asking to understand but to know for certain there was no imminent threat.