The Heartwood Float through bright rooms; no borders, no fences

As he spoke of her history with Rusalka, Hydra nodded. He ran with Rusalka, she recalled him saying, and he had said she was the alpha once too, but she sought more intelligence than that. He had met her but once while she lead, though Hydra was not certain for how long he had run with them. Would any among them seek to defend her, do you think? She asked after a beat, ears twitching atop her head. It was worth knowing the obstacles she might come up against—and also, came a terrible thought, the revenge she herself could sow should the seawitch touch a single hair upon any wolf she loved. If Caiaphas had family within Rusalka, she imagined the answer to that could only be yes unless they had disowned her for her atrocious actions. Then again if they were family, maybe they stood with her regardless. Hydra knew that for her own parents, she would have; whoever they sought to cull, they must have had good reason for it.

Then again, there were very few in this world who carried her brand of loyalty. Unwavering and everlasting, when earned. 

Hydra's gaze shifted toward Serem when she approached, though fortunately her scent had foretold her return. A howl cut through the Wood then, and Hydra listened to its message; danger had come to find reprieve at Neverwinter, it seemed. Her ear flicked and Lyra was on her way, and Hydra took only some steps in pursuit of her before looking to Vengeance. Anything else I ought to know about our enemy? She asked lastly, ears twitching; already, the cogs of her mind were shifting, formulating what their best recourse was for this all would be. 

The trail of each thought ended only with violence, though such a thing was a typical conclusion for Hydra to arrive to.