Moonspear are you up right now?

Hydra seemed to consider his inquiry, letting out a low hmm as she feigned to mull over the question. Deciding that she would feed his ego, but not before he fed her own desires, Hydra smirked. My prophecies will cost you a kiss, and after a beat, she continued, and venison for dinner, and not waiting for him to agree—of course he would, she believed—she revealed: I know. 

She leaned into his touch, reveling in it, and lifted her head a measure before she scooted nearer. One of her own favorite activities to do with him other than anything else they did was when he groomed her, and she groomed him. Hydra began by finding a knotted tuft of fur out of his own reach, moving to nibble it away should he permit it and not once moving away. There was a twinkle in her eye as he spoke, and Hydra demurred: one never tires, when hearing it from your mouth, but she teased; he knew what she wanted, as she knew what he wanted. 

Hydra felt there was a way for them to have it all. A lofty goal indeed, but it had presented itself. Though it had begun as a joke, Hydra peered beyond him and into the Hinterlands horizon. We could claim most of the Hinterlands, in time, she mused dreamily, aloud. But Hydra always was one to say exactly what she meant. Idle talk was not her way, not in matters such as this in any case. We could rule from the mountains, and any other pack that seeks residence here would need to take it up with their queen and their king, first, a bemused smile lingered on her lips as she spoke, and she pressed it against his chin and gave a nibble. Hydra was not quite so ready to give up what was rightfully her own, earned not at all from inaction; she saw this as their beginning, though life would take them where it would. Together.