Moonspear I wear my long black dress, and a veil of disaster

Open! Tags for reference. 

 

Hydra prowled Moonspear, thinking on all that they had learned of their new enemy... an enemy in which did not yet know they had gained several new ones. There had always been something so familiar about the way in which others had spoken of her... it had been in her description. Hydra, for days, had dwelled on it; she had spoken with @Dirge at length as though he might bring to the fore an old memory she could not seem to recall. 

Blackhead, they had all said. Blackhead—black head. Not simply a name, a descriptor—it was not as though she had another name (though it had become, unwittingly, a moniker), she simply had a head that was black. 

Hydra snarled silently; this was the woman who had attacked her father. Who had rendered one eye useless due to her assault. Her father, the only wolf who likely could ever best her other than her mother... bested by Blackhead. The womans skillset must be enormous; so, too, were her victories in her lifetime, the Queen imagined. A longer lifetime than Hydra. Who they were up against was a woman who would not be easily beaten, she now knew this for certain. Before Hydra could not hunt her, having not had her scent—a good thing, too, that. That was a battle she did not think she could have won, then. 

Now, though? 

She had a far better chance at it—still, though, this Blackhead had not survived for as long as she had by being idle, that much was clear. Hydra was glad herself that she had not stopped in her training and was never content to be idle for very long, either... remembering did little for her but to further solidify Hydra's justification in killing her on sight, and, more than that, understanding just what Blackhead was capable of. This would be no ordinary opponent.

Moving across the snow-laden mountain, Hydra paused as she looked to the bleak, grey evening sky; a warm exhale provoked a plume of mist to rise from her nostrils where she could see her own breath. Swinging her head left, Hydra's gaze traced the horizon. She wondered, then, if one could feel when their own death was coming. One ear twitched as she licked her chops and moved onward, heading toward one of her mothers once-favored haunts.