Moonspear and still insists he sees the ghost

From her place above, she watched as his eyes sought—then found—@Alya, who stood watchful before departing—it was likely off to the borders herself, now. From above, Hydra corrected him with a bemused whuff of her own location. They were impossible to tell apart from the distance he was from them both, and so she did not fault him. Hydra was torn between the whim to meet him below and the instinct to follow the lead she had found; in the end, instinct won out. He might see tell of her own intent by the alert way she lingered; for her intuition told her that doing so would lead to his own hope of moving in on prey, and her mind held fast to that. Whether he joined her or not, she would not be at all offended; he was at an age where he could make his own choices and decisions. 

Licking her chops, Hydra swung around to once more investigate the brambles before her eyes honed in to another detail—tracks. Not terribly old ones, either; Hydra looked to the direction they led, and began to follow. If Atlas had determined to join her, or even if he was simply continuing on his way up, their paths would (likely) soon intersect.