Moonspear Queendom

2000!

 

Hours she had spent moving through the Netherwood, one of her own more frequent haunts. The Ostrega patrolled and marked the territory diligently, missing no detail as she moved. For what felt like the first time in weeks, snow did not fall; the sun was high, and the winds were low. Hydra gazed outward, toward the Glen, thinking to herself on how once this habit had been shared between she, her mother, and father. They had been gone for a while now, but still she was not used to their permanent absence. There was always still the desire to seek them out and discuss with them recent events, to ask a question she had no answer to, to get their perspective—things she could never have again. 

But, she thought gratefully, at least she had it once. So much of it, too. Their influence would never die so long as she lived, and the rest of her siblings, and her own children as well. Hydra turned then to move deeper into the territory, seeing one of her subordinates path about to merge with her own. While typically she would have felt inclined to join them, Hydra blended into shadow prior to being seen; for the moment, she wanted to be alone. 

Having avoided detection, Hydra followed the pale blue vein of Silverspine—frozen solid, where she trekked—in silence. So light were her footfalls that they could not be heard, but the imprints of her paws were left in her wake. Her breath could be seen as she moved, and the she-wolf mulled over many things in the peaceful quiet. 

The seasons continued to move as surely as time did once @Charon and @Amekaze departed them for good. It had once felt a disrespectful thing, that; what sort of world could it be, without them? How could the seconds on the clock still tick, minute by minute, after such a monumental loss to this place? Still she did not understand, not entirely, but Hydra did as she always would in times of tumult: adapt. Overcome. Become stronger, better. 

Thank the stars for @Alya and for @Lyra, for @Jarilo and for @Arcturus, for even the quiet @Yama—all those that remained of Charon and Amekaze, all those that, as she looked to them that day, reminded her that all was not lost. Thank the stars for @Dirge who had the strength to stand with her, beside her, without question or falter when she needed him the most. Thank the stars for the life in her womb, then, that reminded her that there was so much of life yet to come. For them. For her. 

Up and up she went; now, Hydra moved through The Pale. All was white around her; the fog hung around her shoulders like a mantle, and as her tail swayed behind her it was as though the near-invisible garment rippled and was without end. The stuff was thick as she moved without interruption through the field, and Hydra headed toward one of her mothers favored haunts without being conscious of it. She did think of her then, though, as she drifted. Amekaze had been a woman who demanded respect without even needing the ceremony of posturing; Hydra hoped she was worthy of being the same, hoped she could ever be half the woman the once-matriarch was. She thought of how others had come to behold her and knew that the former hope was believed by many simply in the way they received her... and this Winter had caused her to believe, finally, that she could. 

The field stretched on, but before long Hydra was again in the woods. Hydra circled the Crescent Grove idly, now thinking keenly of her mother and their games, which had never really been games she did not think, not now, but lessons. Amekaze had made her understand that in every encounter, there was always a lesson to learn. Amekaze's spirit sang with Hydra's in their desire to improve, to absorb and gain all that could be gained from everything. Even the quiet. Even moments such as these, when she was alone, when she was simply being. 

Moonspears Queen was not quick to leave the grove, but once she had it was up again. It was Charon she thought of now as she continued to scale her mountain. A strong man, surely the strongest that she had eveer known. A little foolish sometimes, true, which unfortunately her brothers inherited—though she clung to even that from them, unsure if these were traces of him or the stupidity that sometimes came with youth. In any case, the shoes left behind could never be filled, she knew. 

As she at long last arrived just before Kanmuri, Hydra was aware that she had no desire to do that. What was gone could never be replaced, nor remade. But two of the most brilliant wolves had united to make her; years with them had shaped what now moved toward a cliff edge that overlooked the entirety of the Wilderness, and then, beyond. From here, on this clear day, she could see the mountain range well beyond—the Sunspire—and as she stood and stared at Moonspears rival, she lifted her head, feeling triumphant. 

There was no better than this! 

Not yet, she knew—but she would make it so. Moonspear would come to possess the Wilderness, together. Winter would soon end, and Spring would bring more life—and for she and hers, more land, too, if things went her way... As she always would, Hydra would see to it that it did. The timeframe mattered little, she determined, as she turned away from edge she had been observing her domain from—only that it was done. 

And it would be done. Hydra shook out her furs as she found the most challenging path down to take to further work her mind. She had work to do.