Moonspear heavy as heartbreak

Hydra's eyes had turned to the horizon, but once her mate spoke they turned to look to him. Frankly, she was relieved he agreed with her intervention if only because she knew of how reasonable a man he was. While in hindsight it did not sound like the best idea, if she could turn back time and change things... would she? Perhaps in the heat of the moment she might have thought, yes. But in the end, Hydra did not care for Arcturus's misplaced and misguided anger. She cared that he lived even still. Revui, too.

If she needed to be a monster for that to happen, by the stars she would be the most terrible and terrifying of them. If that made her one now, she accepted the title willingly. It was not so bad, being the monster then. Not so awful to be vilified and hated if it meant what you loved could go on. Hydra was strong enough to withstand it. But Arcturus? He was a hero. A stain on his name would ruin his soul. Hydra loved him enough to be what he needed, when he needed it. 

To hear Dirge say all that he had put her mind more at ease than it had been in several days. Her shoulders did not feel so heavy as word after word came. He put to words things in which Hydra had not even known she had been thinking. Things that lurked deep inside, but that were locked behind some door that she moseyed past but had never thought to open. No, she agreed, and I told him as much. I hope... I hope while he is away, he finally thinks. He is not only teeth, she recognized, but I do not know that he sees that. And I do not think it can be me that shows him, either. Hydra took a step toward her mate, moving to nose his cheek. We are different. And I do not want to banish Arcturus for this. The boys... Vega... he was their uncle. Hydra looked to her flanks, too. Would he never know them? Would he never wish to? 

She felt hurt and betrayed still, though, and sucked in a breath. I do not know what to do here. He challenged me, walked away from it... called me insane. Told me I attacked Revui while he was defenseless, when he went to pull him out from under me while he was prone and on his back. As he was leaving, he spoke as he had never spoken before. He said... she could not continue to recount it. The way he had said it, the way he had looked upon them all—looked upon her—had her tongue too heavy a weight to lift further. Fuck this place, he had said, which perhaps to many might not seem so terrible a thing... but this place meant the world to her. This place was where she had helped raise him. Protected him. Taught him.

Her eyes turned to Dirge, as though looking for some sort of guidance. What should they do? What could they do?