Moonspear you are to me like a very, very wild thing

Hydra and Alya thought the very same. It had worked for them throughout all of their lives; they protected those they loved with force, as anything else seemed to be taken advantage of. They had showed kindness in not chasing that mouthy boy from where he stood when they very easily could have; he remained still. Perhaps there was food there; they would find out. 

Her gaze shifted to the object Alya had found; the additional decoration did well to fill the previously empty space. It turned back to her twin at the mention of famine; she thought on that for a minute when she brought up children. By extension, more sisters and brothers for her own litter to come... which in truth she had not thought of, given all that was occurring around them. But now she did; a light, in this bleak and dreary time. 

The food should return, Hydra hoped, frowning, and whatever food there may we will find and claim for the mothers to be. You among them, if you wish for children, Hydra moved to nose her sisters cheek, heart filled with joy at the thought. She forewarned, it may be difficult, though; pregnancy makes you hungrier. Crave the strangest things at the most peculiar times. Perhaps you will be fortunate with a late heat, as I had been—and the food will have returned, she hoped so! For the both of them. Hydra feared for her own heat if things continued on this way, and if prey remained gone. How could she sustain the life within if there was no sustenance? 

After a beat, Hydra looked to her sister and said fiercely: all the more reason to drive that forest wolf away. And there is another that wishes to settle in the weald; I will advise her to go elsewhere, the latter had the privilege, here and now, of Hydra's positive regard for advisement to come before force. But that force would be inevitable, should Andraste not mark her words.