Firefly Glen don't call my name, don't call my name

It had not been a threat, though Hydra was hardly known for her playful nature. Still, Hydra did not see herself as several others did. She thought her words were an (amusing) reflection of the strangers own, but perception was everything. Praimfaya was unique enough in appearance that to hear two matched her description was a surprise... but then, Blackhead had an apparent twin herself. At the very least it sounded like she was living still. Choosing, then, to keep away. The sound of another caused Hydra to turn to regard the way from which Tundra emerged, furs along her nape standing on edge up until she realized that the other was asking an innocent enough question. 

Perhaps trying to be helpful. Hydra looked to Norah with a gentle shake of her head as though to respond, ah, not her. To the both of them she answered, Not from me. She is a packmate of mine. We all lost someone, recently. She is grieving... but she has been gone for some time now. I worry, she admitted to them openly. There are wolves out there that will attack you for no other reason than to know the way you taste. She shuddered, thinking of the wolf she had dealt with most recently. And that was but one of the threats out there.