Moonspear technicolor

His information was answered, firstly, with a frustrated huff. The world rioted the absence of Amekaze and Charon, she fantasized—but she knew the truth of it. Nature was an unpredictable thing, and as of late she was oft crueler than she was not. They had a pleasant enough Summer, but Fall was fast on its heels and Winter, she imagined, would be here sooner than later. The rain, which felt ceaseless now, had no end in sight or scent. Temporary bouts of reprieve were just that: temporary. 

Dirge brought good news with it, as he spoke of hunts... Hydra settled, lowering onto her haunches to sit for a moment. She closed her eyes and listened to the humdrum of the rain, and beyond that their children... coupled with the sound of her husbands breathing, things felt peaceful for a brief, wonderful moment. Opening her eyes brought her back to, and her gaze shifted to Dirge to behold him. 

Handsome, as ever, even despite the weary look he wore. Perhaps all the more handsome for it. Gone were the days of their stress free youth; the two, together, carried the weight of Moonspear and its inhabitants upon their back. It was an impressive feat, their deeds here no less impressive as they worked toward continuing an already brilliant legacy. And the obstacles they faced were the greatest Hydra had ever known in her lifetime thus far: famine, the world quite literally splitting at the seams... and now, this. 

They would make it through this too. Hydra was careful not to let her confidence in that err toward arrogance, but at the very least they had the mind for it. 

I had seen some prey move up, she hummed, informing him of her observations, though I have had yet to pursue it. I wondered if they still might linger below, or if they had the same sense of things as I do. The rain... I do not think it will be stopping any time soon, she licked her chops and continued, we should be fine upon the mountain, so long as prey does make its way here. We are high enough even where we are now, and we can always go up. But we would not be the only things. No doubt prey and predator alike might have the same idea, she recognized, gaze shifting toward her cubs. And that was not even the half of it, but she would get to the rest. One thing at a time... and first, this.