Moonspear I make dark things beautiful, and beautiful things dark

three weeks ago, backdated to make note of pregnancy!

 

Hydra had taken to investigating nooks and crannies within Moonspear again. The previous spot she had given birth no longer felt safe in that Arcturus had known of its whereabouts, and her trust in him was shaken enough where she felt the need to let it be entirely this year. But the occassion itself was a good one; she knew for certain she was with child now, which in passing she had mentioned to her own cubs... they did not seem to grasp entirely their soon to be new role in this life, big brother, big sister... but they would. Of that she was certain. Just as she had, she hoped. 

The young within shifted; Hydra craved boar, of all things, and hoped while she searched for a good place for her whelping den she might come across the scent-trail of one. But instead came the odor of mountain goat, and memories of her younger brother stirred within her. She was quick to shut down the part of her mind that had them come so as to not think of them then. All she found herself hoping when it came to him was that he would only know monachopsis there. Cruel, that; angry little things were within her that seemed to thrive when she was irate, coming to life like little devils then. 

She had to grin as she thought of it; once, her anger truly had fueled her. She turned to look at the swell of her abdomen, so subtle it was easy to miss. Hydra carried in a way that none but those who knew her well would know she was with child, which served her well. And she told her cubs with a content little sigh, there are better things. And I will show you them all, and how you might take them for yourselves, she drawled; just as she had their elder siblings. The matriarch loved them already, these little things that had yet to be but that surely would... 

Up the matriarch ascended. She was given pause at the sight of a golden eagle landing upon the cliff-face nearest to her; familiar, somehow... a hard eye landed upon her, and Hydra remembered. It was difficult to tell with birds, but Hydra liked to think that she saw respect there. And it was a shared thing, if so. They had both survived the chaos of the Winter, and there was still so much yet to come. As Hydra moved on, the eagle took wing—and followed from above.