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

Hydra listened to her sisters supposing and hmm'd quietly to that. Perhaps. Hydra had forgotten entirely of Ran, but had known Galaxy not to be the strongest of wolves... physically, or mentally. She had taken Vela's taunts to heart too quickly and had ignored food for a long time before listening to Hydra herself advising her to eat. Alya's words were true enough, but then, yet somehow, the very weak can keep living, she shook her head to that thought. She spoke, really, of one individual—

And she looked to Alya then, remembering. Lyra thought she saw him. The wolf who had killed Galaxy. This time, she said, if we see him, he dies. For good. Forever, she drawled. Towhee had thought him dead; somehow, he lived. How she would never know; yet he defied most possible things. Hydra did not think they needed to look; she was near certain he would make another mistake. He was good at that. 

Hydra wished Lyra had told her then; he might have tasted better than moose. But she knew that the moose would feed her children better than he ever could. 

Her heart veritably tore to hear Alya speak of her own death so; it took her breath away to hear it, and the pain it caused to hear it was second to none. For our children to live, you must live, Hydra breathed, and thought as much for more reason than one. Nevermind her own life; Hydra could not see it without Alya, did not think she ever could. She could not say as much, dare not—but she knew she felt the same. Had seen it, the fear of it at least, the day their parents were found dead. Hydra drew nearer to Alya and pressed against her again to feel their hearts ring together, so that she would know, if ever there was a doubt, that Hydra would see to her own end before she saw her sisters find theirs—

A mutually assured destruction, so to speak. Hydra knew it went without saying; they were one and the same, after all. 

Withdrawing in time to see the flash of teeth, she sobered and grinned. They did what they must, the three of them. Survived, and thrived for it. Past every betrayal, past every hurt, they overcame; conquerors of all that life threw at them. They would conquer this famine, too; Hydra would make sure of it! It was what made her so savage a creature; survival. She would always see to it that they did that, at least, no matter how it was done. 

Who was the Omega? Tye, she informed, ears twitching. He was weak and hungry when he came; but there was something within him that can be used to our advantage. Not only this, but these are frustrating times; it will be good, to have him, for morale, she drawled, considering. Find him and see what you think. Perhaps my children have made me softer, you would tell me, wouldn't you? She queried, gentle and saccharine and playful as she asked; she would sooner oust him if he was useless than keep him. But when she saw potential, she hoped to see it through. Never try, never know. 

As for the woman of the weald, Hydra sighed. She seems fickle. I do not know that she would be a good reliable ally to begin with. She has abandoned her own children, and for that alone, I know she cannot be trusted; ah, well, the truth of it is, I have long since decided she would not be of use to me, but she has amused me, she said sighingly, and she has been helpful, too. Her name was once Aurewen, but since being struck by lightning, she has taken to the name Andraste... anyway, as how she has been helpful, well, she has given me the knowledge that there are other murderers in our midst... and here she gave the same description Andraste had given her of Caiaphas and Merrick, who once Hydra had supposed to be Titmouse. 

Giving a look to Alya, she drawled, and Lyra—Lyra detests her. Andraste looks to feel the same; she refused her help for a time, after being struck by lightning and returning here. Truthfully, that too gave me my answer, she said with a laugh. Hydra respected the opinions of her sisters mirror images above any other; to be on the bad side of one was to be on the bad side of all. Andraste had better uses than mince-meat, however; still, it would appear she had an expiration date. 

It was coming up due.