Moonspear for every sense, a sensation

As her summons faded off into the mountain air, she breathed deep--long and slow that gave her the time to consider, and remind herself of herself first and foremost. Although she was still weighing her options, there was a growing swing in one key direction with certainty starting to follow after it with every second. When irritation already sang in her blood, none of it was so easy to just ignore, and turn blindly away from. She simply did not trust any of it.

But, she couldn't say she truly expected an answer any time soon from their lot abroad, and knew they should hear. They would know, and in turn, she awaited them when it was time. Knowing Hydra was among them helped, somewhat, and perhaps that was the only thing keeping her rooted to the mountain still; her daughter would know the injustice at hand, for it was a slight in her direction just as it was Ame's, too--just differently, but in this one as well, she placed her will on Hydra's shoulders--at least until they could steer it back to home, or not. Ame could, and would, judge accordingly.

Until then, she didn't miss a shadow lurking closer steadily by the step, one coming from deeper on the mountain, not beyond. Even in all her slow-burning ire and tension rippling through her every step, she found herself glad for this, and neither did she immediately anticipate more assaults to her nerves. Not like Charon's blind greed, or Zafina's willful disregard. At least Lyra had come to her, checking in at least, and wasn't stirring the season's pot either. It made her all the more lovely of a presence now. Good to know someone else still has some sense about them here, she said over her shoulder as she curled a lip into an ugly sneer, not at Lyra's company, but her contempt leaking through for what she suspected beyond--and the big storm to come.