Moonspear I make dark things beautiful, and beautiful things dark

His inquiry was a smart one, and her tail stirred behind her. She could imagine his contemplative expression cast in the shadows of the burrow he was partially within, and nosed his hip gently. Your back, and your tail. A good blow to your spine can cripple you for life, she informed, tail stilling on that note. Hydra would teach her son how to avoid such a fate as best she could... ideally, now he would not go hunting for treasures beyond Moonspear. Home he was safe from that at least, but she trusted nowhere else in full. 

She nipped at his exposed heel then, waddling backwards. Though she was full of her children, she had an itch to go for a run, and hummed: come, let us stretch our legs together, with a wry grin. Now her son would surely be swifter than she in her present state, even with his build; pregnancy was always something to get used to as her body changed, but it had yet to slow down her desire to improve and become the best.