Moonspear Leave me your wake to remember you by

His inquiry was a fair one, and no rebuke came as he acknowledged his tone had been inappropriate by himself. Her mind drifted, as the season would have it do, again to that seasonal itch... but she saw the hurt in Dragomir, and seemed to sober for a moment despite the heat that prickled at her skin, again trying to grip its fingers upon her brain. I had thought this time, she would tell you, Hydra admitted, and my own season came before I could. It is an all-consuming thing, this week long matter. I did not think to even call; it is a time where thinking is not truly involved. A primal, base, and instinctive time, she informs, feeling overwhelmed by those instincts. Hydra was not immune to them; it took very much so all of her energies to expend on using brain then and there. 

She could not sit for much longer! 

And her ability to articulate was dwindling; Hydra did not know if she was making sense. She tried, she tried—for her love of him, she did!—but to explain to one who was not yet old enough to feel, perhaps it might make sense. One day, it would. As he spoke of being able to control himself, Hydra shifted in her seat. For now, she trusted in that. What would the future bring? Children, her children, more brothers and sisters... 

Hydra rose to a stand at last, ear flicking atop her crown as she nodded in thanks before he departed, eyes bright with her appreciation toward him. 

Hydra trusted him to the task she had given, to protect when she could not to fulfill her other duties. A streak of pride ran through her chest as he went, and adoration too. Hydra herself turned to streak deeper into this stretch of the area she and Dirge populated, impatient now to fulfill her baser desires.