Moonspear change in the house of flies

She bore his teeth to his defiant look; defiance would give him nothing here but flaying teeth, but as he spoke her wrinkled muzzle soon was creaseless as she listened. Yours, he had said—mine, she had thought. The woman was no ferry-man; she was worse than that, for the likes of him. Hydra was compared to the things of hell enough to carry the spirit of some manner of beast from it—who was it that accepted souls for granted wishes? 

The light in her own eye seemed to brighten. 

Remember that, she drawled, we will kill you if you are not a man of your word. But should you be loyal, and carry your weight, you would be family. For now, you are Omega, she decreed, until you prove to me your worth. Subject to the abuse of packmates who could vent their frustrations upon him, herself included. It would not take long for him to prove such a thing to her. 

Turning from him to grab the fresher meat, Hydra sniffed at the cache. Whoever had dug this one had not left anything of great importance here; an old snack. Likely her children practicing digging alongside someone supervising them who had not thought to clean it up. But there was something for him to eat, at least, and she looked back to him before saying, Whatever is left in here you may polish off, as there is not much in it... but enough to sate you, for now. Do not glut yourself so soon. And then I would like for you to be rid of this cache; there should not be one here. Nor at any of the borders. I am Hydra, your Queen; what is it you are named? She inquired with the slight tilt of her head, a possessive paw pressed upon the raccoon. Scrawny, yes, but warm and enough for her children.