Moonspear stay a thousand years

Honed in on it now, she determined to follow through on this more solid lead. She would find Atlas later, but this trail was more promising. And so she moved after it, quietly as she could. A thin sheet of mist began to fall, but Hydra was unbothered—the rain, now, had become background noise... at least from where she stood then and there. Their elevation granted them the good fortune to not worry about washing away themselves for the flooding. 

He was just up ahead, and Hydra paused to see him investigating himself. Hydra plod toward him, making no mystery of her arrival, and chuffed in greeting; while normally she would seek to roughhouse, she thought it prudent to speak on business first. Her children were adults now, but they still had plenty of lessons to learn. This rain is unusual, even for this time of year, she informed her son, sidling alongside him and seeking to groom his shoulder to remove a spot of mud she saw with teeth that were none too gentle about it (though not rough by any means). Though she knew it a fruitless task, Hydra herself still kept to her own grooming—though anyone that knew her own mother would notice that the consistent rains caused the longer furs around her nape to look as wild as her mothers own once had. 

Looking to him, Hydra informed, the children ought not to go to the lower reaches. I anticipate the water will rise, so if you see them, tempt them toward the inner territories, her tail swayed as she looked toward her right, to the horizon beyond. There was much on her own mind other than this, but she supposed that took precedence to start.