Haunted Wood ain't no mercy in my smiling, only fangs

Hydra listened, giving the floor to Vengeance entirely. His past tense was not missed by Hydra, who payed attention to detail: had. 

She had always been an exceptionally patient woman, but it would not be a stretch to say that she had exercised near all of it for all else that was spoken. Had echoed dully; was it unintentional, or did he and Revui share the same sort of mind? The rest of what he spoke was far from unbelievable; Revui had trespassed before, after all, and his fellow had just done the same upon Moonspear. 

In all fairness to Vengeance, Hydra would have dealt the killing blow to her brother, were she him. 

But Vengeance had not. He had let him live, even if it was only temporary. And word had come back to Hydra about it.

Ah, she rejoined, as though understanding; and truth be told, she did... to a certain degree. What good was a captive that had trespassed? It was an utter waste of resources that could otherwise be for pack... and yet, Orochi had not looked rail-thin upon his arrival. Unhealthy, certainly, and battered... but the Nightwalkers evidently did not starve their captives to death. What they were meant for Hydra could not be certain. A forward-thinker, Hydra could not help but think the idea of them to be a waste.

But that was more because of the lack of food than it was anything else. 

In any case, Hydra continued, slower this time: And now, she drawled, speaking to the present, he is dead? She asked, to be sure of it. Hydra could not understand why he would have avoided the question unless he supposed she might not like the answer, though still Hydra extended to him this final courtesy so that he could reveal to her the truth of that.

If he had trespassed and died, Hydra could understand; the dumb often died such ways, after all, and if that was what Revui had been reduced to in his time away, he only had himself to blame for leaving. But he had survived. Of course he had; he had the same tenacity as they all seemed to. He had lived and died both in her heart, and now that he might live was cause enough for Hydra to stand beside him. Not for his trespass, for that she would never condone; evidently, he had paid for that in his time here. That she could not know for certain of course, but she could only guess from the looks of the once-captive that had trespassed upon the Spear.

She was outraged with her brother, of course. Outraged that he would be so foolish. Outraged that he was so selfish as to put them through this terrible thing for what Hydra felt was one time too many. Mother, father, brother, not brother—yes, brother. Vengeance, she spoke levelly, only a beat after the inquiry, where is he? She breathed. He might not know it, but the questions alone were proof enough she had not come here to end this alliance; no other in this lifetime would have ever been granted the chance to speak if she imagined they lay a hand upon her family. 

For trespassing, she could permit injury even to death; she had always been explicit in her teachings of what one must not do, and this had ever been at the top of it. But the problem lay in his continued survival, only to be (potentially) cut short by fleeing... 

No, she would kill for that too. Best to tie up loose ends. 

But she needed to know. If she was to bury him, it would need to be for good this time—and she would not let him rest alone. Not for very long. She would need to know the name of the wolf who swung the sword, and then her brothers restless, foolish, violent soul might feel peace to know her pursuit of them.