Moonspear neresā

Hydra arrived in time to listen, settling just above and behind her mate as she did so, ears pricked forward; Andraste spoke of the dead mercenary, and of her once-son, and the beginnings of her tidings were revealed with frustrating vagueness; she and he? Who, Hydra demanded. He and She were not enough for Hydra’s bloodthirst; such beings were everywhere. One he beside here, one she before her—that same she aquiver for but a moment with her feelings on the matter. Feast on the father? Soon; there was precious little time to spare, then, and one ear turned toward Dirge as she moved alongside him. Feast on a wolf? It seemed wrong, but then… when times were desperate, perhaps they might need to do the same—

The Queen nearly scoffed as Andraste continued; she would not protect what had once been hers, even now! Even in knowing what she knew, she would end her search and be content with her abandonment! Hydra, ever still, spoke: you are damned, Andraste. We need not be the ones to proclaim it for you to know it. It was one thing to leave in your pursuit of self; it is another to abandon when you know how near those that would harm, have harmed are. Your fang is one with theirs if they suffer again by them, her words were low and cold; but Hydra knew by now that maternal instinct was not something within her… it had been confirmed the day she had not lingered to protect Dragomir in the fray where Dirge and Arcturus would. 

Not that they would have allowed it.

But these children were not Andraste’s any longer. They were hers. Hydra’s desire for Andraste to rise to the occasion was fruitless; mother was Aurewen, it seemed, not Andraste. Damned, though—that was something that carried over. I would kill them, Hydra confirmed, but you have given me no one to kill. What did their voices sound like? Did you see them? What does the woman look like; who is he? Hydra pressed now, taking another step forward. 

You will come with us to the Lake before you depart. Confirm their voices, if you do not know their faces. We will do the rest, Hydra’s muzzle wrinkled, voice thick with her contempt; Andraste need hunt no more, as she had said, but this final thing she would do—or her eternal damnation would come here and now.