Moonspear and where do we feature? just listen to teacher

Hydra processed his words mutely as his mood shifted. It was a shift above his pitiful state moments ago, though his words tempered her oncoming happiness about that. Her features shifted from sympathetic (if they could be called that) to utterly disappointed. She had no doubt, now, that their father had spoken to him and soured his mind to make him speak so. She could, and would, acknowledge her part–but first? She would regard him. 

Her face shifted to impassive, all traces of emotion wiped clean off. Here and now, I speak of here, and now–had I thought you selfish for a lifetime, do you think I ever would consider you deserving? You are selfless, and I thought you smarter, she spoke, voice, too, void of feeling.  She was bewildered. But his words had cost him her trust, in her own belief of where they came from.

Her ears leaned forward ever-so-slightly, as she rolled her shoulders as a jaguar might before setting upon its prey. But she did not regard her brother as prey here. She saw him now for what he was in this moment, and that alone.

For her own part, she had never changed. Not really. 

She learned forward, voice soft yet eerily calm. There was a firmness in it befitting of her convictions: I am selfish. When it comes to you, our brothers and sisters, I always have been. Should any have ever harmed you, I would be selfish in wanting to kill the bastard who did so myself. And if I found them, I would be selfish in acting on that whim. If I sense a threat to those that I love most, even their honor, I am selfish: I act first. I have never not acted in the interest of our family in this. And I have never acted differently. The day that father offended you, who spoke on your behalf? When he returned, who also defended you? Only one has shifted in this path, and I will speak with him about it, Hydra’s own head lifted as she stared at her brother, and I sense that you know it yourself, that you feel so free now in speaking against mother, too. Who else but their father could plant the seed of doubt? Water it? 

Hydra sought to remove the weeds that choked her brother. But perhaps this plant was long dead. Perhaps it was best left alone. She would find out, would she not? She would not choke the plant of its life herself. She only sought to water it, and cast it in sunlight. Protect it from fingers that would prematurely pluck it.