Moonspear take charge of your life

The woman's resistance to any sort of help frustrated Lyra to no end; her heart did not bleed for the stranger's plight, nor was her patience unending, but the white fae was clearly in pain. She was as stern a healer as her sister was Alpha, and she had no time for those who put on a strong facade and resisted treatment, but she also would not let her succumb to her injuries if she could help it. If she died here, who could tell if this Kaistleoki she had come from would believe the death was from her injuries and not maliciousness. Even though they had plenty of capable mercenaries protecting them, Lyra did not wish for the pack to be assaulted due to a misunderstanding. Especially not with the children being as young as they were.

She shadowed Hydra as her sister strode forth into the darkness of the cavern that acted as a secluded refuge for the injured currently. Her thoughts echoed her mirror image's own, though with a touch more venom. When she had been graced with acceptance into the pack, the honour of being a mentor for Moonspear's newest brood had been placed upon her, however Lyra was sceptical. What could the pallid teach them that the wolves already part of the family - by blood, no less - could not? And how long after would she (and the man she had brought with her, as useful and easy on the eyes as he was) remain part of the pack after she had healed and regained her strength? How long would that take if she continued to refuse treatment?

Lyra came to a stop at a distance behind Hydra as she posed a question to the woman, judgemental eyes narrowed into slits. A reply came after a quiet moment, though the Ostrega was wary of how truthful her words were. She stepped forward just enough to come into view of the broken, one-eyed woman. "You should hope so," she murmured quietly in response, though it was ultimately up to their queen how best she would repay their favour.