Moonspear Leave me your wake to remember you by

Hydra answered him easily. Maybe it was the fact that his groin hurt or maybe it was his never-ending anxiety regarding his family, but irritation flared hotly in his belly. Why didn't anyone tell me? he demanded before checking himself and flattening his ears. Tch. Apparently neither Isilmë nor Hydra felt any need to keep him informed of what was going on so he wouldn't need to worry. She'd already disappeared once and she'd been gone so long this time he could only assume the same. Why hadn't they said something?

He was too addled and confused by his swirling feelings to really heed a lot of what Hydra said, but when she suggested that men couldn't resist, a purely masculine affront made him step back. It explained some things. If men were merely puppets to something so silly as a scent then he could see how his father and his mother thought producing he and Isilmë was a good idea, but he would never be like Vercingetorix. I can control myself, he claimed. Just because he was aroused didn't mean he needed to act on it. Maybe it would be different when he was older, when his instincts bade him to do what nature dictated, but right now he mostly felt confused rather than compelled.

To hear that she required his protection was ridiculous and flattering in equal measure. Ridiculous because Hydra was more than capable of protecting herself. If there was any wolf who could fight off any assailant, it was probably her. Flattering because Dragomir was a young man with a young man's budding pride and any sort of stroke to his ego was empowering. Leave it to me, he said, having forgotten whatever else it was he wanted to talk about. He turned, gave one of his hind legs a shake to try to quell the discomfort building in his loins, then made to stride away and patrol the perimeter in Hydra's vicinity. Protect. He could do that.