Moonspear i'd rather be on my own, yes

Hydra exhaled a heavy breath of understanding.

She wondered if these wolves were of any relation to Liffey, or Rannoch—or any of the other tenderhearted, jellyfish-spined wolves that had elected to follow after them. Were it not for the others accent, she might have taken the dark spine into account and come to her own conclusion, as she often did. As it stood she doubted it, given the dialect. That is a shame, she answered. At the very least, her own family was willing to fight for one another no matter the cost; it did not seem as though Ying's family would do that, with the exception of Ying herself.

Ying went on; Hydra found herself again surprised by the other. That Ying felt an impulse to protect her family warmed the matriarch a great deal; whatever the reason, Hydra found no reason to refuse it. True that they were more than capable of helping themselves and looking after their own as the seawolf had seen, but what was the fault in an extra set of teeth at their side? By several? 

It was something Hydra sought to build herself, albeit in different ways—and she did not have the word for it either. It was a shame Ying was not her own sister; what they could build! She wondered if her family was at all aware of how fortunate they were. For a moment, Hydra pondered if the sacrifice of one useless sister had brought forth another, better one forth from the seawater—but it was a silly little fantasy. Korei Julia's death did as much good for Hydra as her life had: nothing. 

She hoped Ying's family were wolves worthy of her. 

A group of fighters, she translated crudely, wondering if she understood jūnshì. Wanting to. Hydra reclined onto her own haunches, tail curling neatly around the left as she listened. Hydra had been working on the beginnings of such a thing, as of yet within her own mind, but all upon Moonspear; swords and shields of this place. Of this Wilderness as they expanded within it, too—which in time, they surely would.