Bramblepoint my seat is leather,

Fucked up, Tegan said. Hydra rejoined him grimly: He has been fucked up. He has had his throat torn into, and has fallen from a cliff, and still lives. Still takes what is not for him, she rumbled, He needs to be killed. For good. We need to be certain this time. No dark abysses to fall into, where we do not know his fate. No places for him to disappear. His violent delights will meet their violent end, her muzzle wrinkled. The gravity of his actions would at long last come crashing down. Never before had she the opportunity to see him again when unleashed. 

He would not rise again if her teeth ever found him. 

Lyra spoke, and Hydra turned considered for a moment. Towhee will not be happy with his being gone for so long... but she would be even less pleased with Tegan dead, wouldn't she? With their father absent on his own brief sojourn, Hydra had not thought of him in this equation. He would be happiest once Titmouse was dealt with once and for all, and this was the way that it would be done. He needs to rest. Give him the herbs he needs, and when he is ready, we will take him home. She nodded. In his woozy condition, Hydra grimaced. He can keep to the base of the territory. I don't think climbing will do you any favors, she remarked, not unkindly.