Moonspear the minor fall, the major lift

His inquiry was met with an inquisitive look. How could it have been? She answered with a question of her own, her blue eyes searching. He had lost his life for it, and been robbed of knowing his grandchildren and the ability to see any of his dreams come to fruition. All for what he did not even know for certain... he had fought for it, but Hydra imagined that if he had known he would pay with his life that he never would have. The unknown was too fickle a thing to fight for, and his future had never been with those bastards or with Speedy. Hydra believed, for all his witless deeds, he knew that much.

Hydra sighed a little as he spoke of not counting on it. Better to act as though you do, she advised, and wished. Though she did not feel threatened by it at all, Hydra was militant in her way of thinking. She did not want this lazily dealt with. She shifted her weight some as he spoke of maybe, and her blue eyes flashed. We know that Speedy is a liar. She will be spinning her own narrative. I would like to think, though, that she would rather her children alive than dead... that she would not ever bring them here, or hint that this place has any answers for them. They would not like the answer that awaited them—it was lifes final, and most unfortunate, response.

As he made mention of returning to patrol, Hydra nodded. She did, too; she was always appreciative of Jarilo, stalwart and steadfast as he was. It was good to vent their lingering frustrations—ones that son and daughter, brother and sister, could understand better than most. She thought of Arcturus then, too, and wondered what he would think of it all. Hydra hated how the woman lingered even still; what would rid them of this?

Nothing but her end, Hydra imagined.