Moonspear more to do than can ever be done,

Hydra listened to Mira, and then Mintaka. Mintaka, chasing butterflies and squirrels and grasshoppers—Mintaka, too dense, also, to realize she had left the safety of home. She is a child, she reminded herself. You could have been killed, she rumbled. There are wolves out there that would be happy to do such a terrible thing. Her heart rose to here throat when she thought of it. Hydra could have arrived too late; Hydra might not have realized anything was amiss at all had she not been patrolling herself, seeing silver and black specks dart over the borderline. 

She looked to Mira and drawled, I know at the time it must have felt you were doing the right thing. You wanted to protect Mintaka, she understood that much, and sighed. The best way to do that right now is to tell any adult. In fighting, bigger is not always better—but as children, you and your siblings all would be too easy to be killed. If not a wolf, then a cougar. If not a cougar, perhaps a mother bear. Her eyes drifted to Mintaka and she rumbled, you could have gotten not only yourself hurt, or killed, but your sister. And do you know what that would do to the rest of your family? How could she make Mintaka understand? Soft, foolish Mintaka. A child. She is a child. 

Hydra also imagined she was not long for the world. But she did not love her any less for who she was. The bond that came from being her mother was different, now, from how detached she had decided to be with her sister. 

It would make us very sad, simple terms for her simple girl, and she continued on in her low voice, it would cause all of Moonspear to become sad. But your father and I, most of all. To lose you, there would always be a part of us both that will feel that sadness. There is only one Mira and Mintaka that I care so much for, and that is the two of you. 

And her sadness would lay waste to many, for it often was one and the same with her anger. Whoever had done it would not know happiness ever in this lifetime, because there would be nothing else left for them to feel once she eviscerated them—

Premature thoughts, she realized, the furs along her nape settling. She breathed out and said, you are fortunate nothing happened to you. There will be a time you will be allowed to leave Moonspear, but today is not that day. And when the time first does come, it will not be alone, either. And I do not mean you might adventure out with your younger cousins. I mean your aunts, uncles, your older siblings... myself or your father... am I understood? she looked to them once more, listening once again.