Moonspear for lack of a better name,

Hydra had become, over time, an intuitive woman, though that did not mean she had ever become a woman well versed in comforting others in times of their inner turmoil. What she was best at was the fight, and as she observed the concerned shade in the visage of her sister by love she wished she could be there among the wolves together to be rid of the savage thing that lurked too close to their domain. She was more equipped to respond to that than to this. Hydra could not lie and act as though everything would be alright on those front lines. She feared for her children, she feared for her husband, and she feared for her sisters that might have responded to the call. Those left. Those that would answer the call. 

Alya was better at this; better at kindness and finding the right words for sensitive moments like this, without needing to lie. Lyra would be as blunt as she could be, perhaps a little more. Medicine woman though she was, she could doctor wounds only that she saw... not of the mind. And so she was not sensitive to them. Hydra could hardly be called that, either. 

If they could take this thing down, they would be closer for it. 

Where you were from, she started, circling 'round to better escape the whelping den should she hear a ruckus near, have you and yours faced dangers such as this? Was it all the same, here, there, and everywhere, she wondered? What did her family do in such times?