Moonspear pls accept my fool

The summoning sound of a howl was not one she expected as she patrolled. Many lingered their mutely as of late, skulking or seeking a route that would ultimately lead to their certain death. Hydra happened to be near when the other called, and she tipped her own head to loose a sonorous sound: I am here, so that he would know she was near and coming. 

She weaved in and out of the trees, a needle without thread; she was careful to look out for things that might be unwelcome but had the fortune to come across none. By the time Hydra arrived, not much time had gone by; he was far better received than several other of his kind for his manners though that much was not very obvious. Hydra was aloof as ever as she bridged the gap between them, savage-grace personified as she drifted nearer with pricked ears. 

Hydra paused a short distance away, sniffing the air for signs of sickness and searching for any instance of malaise upon him. He was not very proportionate, she was able to see—but that was no indicator of him being unwell. He was a gangly thing, but did not look as though he starved as the other boy who had loitered on her doorstep had. The stranger looked like he ought to be bigger, but just was not; his growth had been stunted, it looked like. Perhaps this once was the runt of the litter. 

Well, he had survived that, had he not? And now he was here. 

What is it you are looking for? She inquired then, her gaze landing at last upon his face. He had called, after all; for what, exactly?