Firefly Glen Follow the Signs

Blood.

@Alya and herself all but flew to find who the scent on the wind belonged to. Another victim, or a victim-to-be? 

The sight she saw was utterly revolting, but Hydra had seen far more morbid things than this. She herself had plucked an eye clean from her enemy; watched as her sister stepped on that very same eye. Several others Hydra had scarred, too, though this was... different. Not something she feared at least, but something she needed to know the cause behind. 

She and Alya slowed at the sight of him, stopping a good distance away. Hydra had a keen enough eye to think she could discern monster from its victim, but thinking would never satisfy her. A low snarl ekked forth from her throat; a promise to him, or if any watched or thought to do any more damage then the sound was for them. To make a wrong move from this point on was to their peril. 

Who did this to you? Hydra inquired darkly, wondering if it might be Caiaphas, the shade, or Merrick; beyond all that blood, their scent did not roll forth from the winterwhite male. He was absolutely ruined, his face ripped and shorn on one side beyond repair (so it looked). Did you make them bleed in the same way? Hydra asked in the next beat, sensing her sisters attention. A flick of the ear between the two of them, subtle and natural in their environment, communicated the thought they seemed to mutually share: which of you will die for this? 

It was not a good time to become an enemy of hers. Hydra would unite the world to see each and every one of those named such dead... Rosencrantz, in fact, would look like a piece of art next to those that threatened her family now. At least there was something left of his face. Something left of him.