Moonspear When darkness speaks, it changes everything.

Hydra had not asked anything of them upon their arrival home, not wanting to proverbially reopen the wounds both bore. Her priority then had been rest and recovery for the two, much as she wanted to press and pry. If he had told her anything, it had been missed by her; Hydra had only heard a terribly dull ringing in her ears, shellshocked by the sight of her son in such a state. The matriarch had hoped to have trained them enough for such damage to never be dealt to them... now, she would need to do more. Much more. And she would. The only thing she made sure to do was gather the scents upon them—as a master tracker, Hydra knew better than to pass up the opportunity to do so. It was this way she recollected but one of the scents she had first come across thanks to @Mal. 

She thought of the speckled male, too, as she lay there. He would need to know; Hydra had no idea in the slightest if any cubs would be had there, but if so, he must be made aware. The matriarch would not leave him in the dark—he was a part of this Wilderness, after all. Perhaps, she mused, they might even fight together. Hydra herself had no cause to dislike him personally; he had been perfectly accomodating when they had [last] spoken. 

Sounds of shifting then, and she was pulled from her thoughts to look over her shoulder. She found the tired gaze of Dacio upon her then, though then and there she did not have it in her to feel particularly guilty. Hydra was nothing if not a responsive woman; she could not rest if she did not think there was an immediate threat nearby. Her knowledge on the shade was limited to her scent, and the color of her coat. Merrick she knew had killed before, and had come to harm others; Caiaphas she had her own history with thanks to their father, and she knew that the seawitch must be quite adept to take her fathers sight; but the third companion had, thus far, only been guilty merely by association. Hydra had not been positive that she had done any harm herself in her own lifetime... not that it would have mattered, if she had not. Hydra would have killed her anyway; she was not one for loose ends if she could help it. 

Now, though, Hydra realized as she looked at Dacio in the gloomy cast of shadow over but half of him, the mystery companion had unwittingly given her more. 

His question was heard, and Hydra shifted to a stand to move nearer to him. Though she knew Lyra had tended to them some, Hydra wanted to review them. She was no healer herself, but a lifetime with Lyra had caused Hydra to glean some things. Entirely rudimentary, but enough. No, Hydra confirmed. Have you? she inquired firstly, before gesturing to a wound she could see. May I? she inquired in her next breath. The matriarch very much cared for his recovery, too. It would require rest, and she would let him—but while he rest, Hydra would work with the details he shared.