Moonspear I'm the biggest, the best, better than the rest

Hydra, @Lyra, and @Jarilo each had chased Speedy from the reaches of Moonspear. While normally Hydra would follow her well beyond the borders, her pregnancy bid her to pause only a short distance from home and she barked a command to her brother and sister to stop as well. She needed them both to escort her home, given her pregnancy. She moved to nip them both in fond thanks, pausing when a peculiar scent that was both blood, bear, and @Revui registered. Her ears pricked and a line of concern knit into her features. Upon further investigation, she could smell @Arcturus, too. Hydra threw up her head and called for them both, though the scent of Revui was a bit older than her inky brothers. There was no urgency to the note, but there was much to discuss now—

More than even she knew. 

The urgency in which she returned home was due to her state of pregnancy more than anything else, but she was thankful for that when more blood came to her on the wind. At that, Hydra did not so much as look at her siblings as she threw herself into a headlong sprint. There was too much of it. She could feel sickness rise in her throat, but she swallowed it; there was not the time for it. Hydra licked away the remnants of Speedy on her own lips as she bridged the gap between them and her parents. 

The second to find them was their self-proclaimed favorite. There was no stopping Hydra once she did discover them, bloodied and beaten by one another, by the mountain. No, was her first thought; she did not even know how she had come to be between them, but there she was. Her eyes first fell to her father, and she noted the unnatural stillness to his form, and aloud this time, she said: No. Adamant refusal to the cold fact that rest before her. 

And then her gaze turned toward her mother. Still breathing. Still living. Lyra! Can anything stop the bleeding? She demanded, noting the rate at which her mothers own blood was leaving her. Alarming. But she still lived. Was there still a chance? Hydra threw up her head and cried for her family, this time a demand and command booming in the note as never before, even for those that she imagined would not hear it (@Alya and @Vela). She looked back down to her mother, the shallow breathing just so, and her tail lifted above her hindquarters as befiit her new rank—her parents last gift to her, while they breathed—and commanded: survive. Live! Her mother was the strongest fighter she knew, she had to fight this, beat this— 

Hydra felt her limbs give, but not entirely, and then she lay between them, long, simpering, low notes coming from her. I will do anything, she bargained in a whisper, her nose extending to touch against the still-warm muzzle of her father, and her mother, as she rest in between the comfort of them. Tell me what to do, she said next, placating, ears flat atop her head. You cannot go. You cannot leave us, she pressed again, wriggling closer and continuing to whine. 

They had been there for her, the two of them, every single step of the way. Guided her, taught her—gave her the world. A world without them, a life without them... she could not imagine it, did not want to think of it, or face it. Please, she begged, near-breaking with the thought. She would do anything, anything at all, and her mind raced through the possibilities, a whirlwind of the things she could do. Your grandchildren... they needed her, too, but selfishly, I need you, her first cubs... she had always envisioned her parents there to hold and love them, cherish and spoil them—

Charon was dead, she understood, but the terrible hope that her mother might not be, might somehow be able to survive despite the seeming impossibility of it outlined before her, was a cruel thread she clung to. Her eyes did not leave her mother as she hoarsely croaked, Lyra!? Tell her, tell her she will live, tell me! Tell me everything will be alright! 

Her gaze did lift this time, to Arcturus, seeing him there suddenly; had he been here all this time? Hydra acknowledged him with a blink, and summoned every ounce of strength she had in herself to find some measure of composure. She was still needed, too, after all, and she understood her mother might not make it but she dared to hope that she may. Hydra could not make sense of the occurrence any more than he could; the end was untimely and did not make sense, but she knew one thing for certain, the only thing that did make sense... but while her mother lived and breathed, she would not speak it, and she stilled her tongue for now, gaze falling back to her mother. 

Even still, acceptance had yet to find Hydra. Sadness encompassed her, for now, and denial mingled with it so long as her mother drew breath.