Moonspear do you speak?

Onward she pressed! Each conscious thought just a simple little wave that found no end, no beginning; bliss. The furs between her shoulderblades were as unkempt as her mothers were, tossed and turned by the winds she cut through. Hydra changed their course so that the wind was then at their back—running against it was not easy work, and Hydra would not subject Desdemona to work while she intended, for a brief time, to play—

She slowed to meet her in her strides, turning to look at her counterpart. It was then Hydra observed that Desdemona was not in the same mindset as she herself was. Let it all go for now, Hydra encouraged, whatever it is—release yourself while you run. You are in control, the matriarch rumbled while running, turning then to look to the path ahead.