Moonspear i was born in this ga[m]e, and i will die in this game

The matriarch observed the food brought, truthfully having missed it with her eyes though her nose had recognized it. Motherhood was exhausting, to put it lightly, and she acknowledged what was brought with a thank you, in the language she was learning. Hydra shifted back to English for the remainder to start, not too confident in the rest quite yet. But she would learn. 

Perhaps both, Hydra drawled, age giving her some wisdom. But still, she judged Praimfaya for her rash reaction. If Praimfaya wanted to lead, and lead well, that she ran away from those that she was meant to protect—her own kru, that had decided to follow her—did not bode well. Hydra had not suffered a blow such as the loss of a loved one to death, but worse. Her sister, and then, the friends that turned their back upon her. 

The sting of Praimfaya's turning her back upon them stung, but only mildly in comparison. The girl was young, and though Hydra had hoped to help her become strong... that she had given into her desires when she felt weakest meant that perhaps she was not a pupil yet worthy of her. All for the better; she would spend her time upon those who deserved it. Those who would not flee from the challenges life would always bring, whether they liked it or not. 

Hydra breathed out. None of her wolves were a number to her; she knew them each. And while Hydra did not know Dacio as well as Praimfaya or his own sister might, he had been among her ranks for a time and so was family to her all the same. No matter the ultimate cause to his end, the one that had a hand in the turn of his fate was who Hydra would ever cast the blame upon. 

Hydra did not care what caused the death of the nameless witch. All she cared about was that it was done. And she would have it be so.

That Opalia was so accepting of it, and echoed the brutal sentiment she felt with words to match, caused her eyes to brighten. In a comradrely fashion, the matriarch swept forward to nose the woman. And we will have it, she drawled, ears swept forward a moment as though to punctuate the thought with the aggression she felt. They were quick to relax some, the notched one flicking casually. What, tactically, do you think is the best course to do so? She drawled, interested in the warrior womans wisdom and method alike.