Moonspear seal team sixty-nine sexecuting the hit

The world had shifted, in more ways than simply its malcontent rumbling. 

The leaves had erupted into a shade of orange, and at present, alongside @Dirge, she and her mate discussed the worlds change to their children. In a neat little row, there were four; @Atlas and @Osiris and @Vega and @Antares who were acting the part of perfect pupils. Hydra discussed only seasons to them this day, and was in the middle of one such little lesson to shed some light upon them: ...snowfall can occur in autumn, as you have seen upon our mountain, though prey typically is not as scarce as it has been— when a howl rent through the air. Hydra had all but forgotten Aurewen had been here at all, but was distracted from even that when her children saw fit to answer the call first—Atlas and Vega leading their rallying cry, this day. 

Her blue eyes fell upon them and she nipped alongside their cheak in faux reprimand. Hush, now, wildlings, did you hear that call? It was not for you; though they are looking for someone, as you can hear, she added another lesson in there, but was quite brief before she gave a sharp look to her husband. Teach them the more intricate art of song before rough-housing, and marching off in false-affront. She was reminded again of how much she loved her family; it was a fierce feeling that made her heart swell as she moved to meet her visitors swiftly. 

Along the way, @Lyra ran with her for a time—up until the very point they came close enough for her to see there were three in the party. Hydra bounded expertly down to meet them, taking her time with this at least to better look at them. One was heavily scarred—moreso than Aurewen-now-Andraste, by the looks of it—and one was the near mirror image of her mother, Hydra assumed, though her nose was dipped in a well of ink rather than rubbed against rose-petal... and even now, her size was greater. No scar blemished her visage, either, that she could yet see... but the silver was unmistakable. The boy, where he sat (or stood), looked more like his father; large, too, and where he stood she did not yet note any mark of injury. 

Finally bridging the gap between them, though keeping a respectable distance for the time being, the queen regarded them with her plume above her hindquarters, providing information wordlessly to those upon her doorstep who, exactly, it was they met with. Hello—I am Hydra Ostrega, the proud woman greeted, ears cupping forward, holding herself in a manner that befitted her station here. Hydra would not waste their time, though was polite enough to wait for their introductions; she was no stranger to ceremony, and even celebrated it. She supposed as a father, if that was who this man was, he would want to educate his children on etiquette—who was she to deny them that? Oh, a Queen, sure, but a goodly one with a heart warm to those alongside him. He was better received than most for his present company, though he would not know it.