Moonspear i can't feel anything anyway; let's show them the only way

It seemed Dragomir and Isilme were similar in one way; they both wished to be useful. This was face value, though; Isilme had said as much, but would she be able to do so? If she was like her brother, certainly; Hydra had high hopes. She places the morsel before Isilme, licking her chops as she regarded all that was said: you did not mean to go, to start with. It would have been entirely different if Isilme had willingly left behind her brother without a word after all the two of them had gone through. True, Isilme went through it too—so she should know better than to go without a word, know how it felt when it had been done to her. That Hydra could not rationalize, but she felt relief she need not even try to. It had not been that way. Hydra hated to think that the young girl had been on her own for so long... but she had survived at least. 

As for the next thing said, yes; be sure to rest. You have been on your own for quite some time and must recover, she drawled. Pack looked out for one another, and Hydra wanted to ensure that Isilme had the ability to get well. It was not now that was the issue, but what she would do once she was well again. In the interim Hydra could be patient, understanding she had underwent much out there on her own. 

With a low rumble, Hydra drawled: we searched for you. I am sorry we were unable to find you sooner, and that was the truth; Hydra had not wanted either of the mercenary's children to suffer beneath her. While Isilme had left and gotten lost, she did not blame herself for it—though she ached to think of the hunger-pangs and whatever other pain she might have gone through on her own. Hydra wondered if she could have done anything differently to prevent it, though did not believe so. Wanderlust was likely in this girls blood; now, perhaps, she might not act on it in the winter season given its cruelty.