Moonspear Vienna

The matriarch could not have known just how spot on she was in reference to the way he was thinking; she was not empathetic to feel as he did, though she had a brilliant intuition. But what she did know was that killing was a thing that would not come easily to Bronco. She had an eye for that sort of stuff... those sorts of wolves. It was something that could be taught, but never forced... and Hydra would not force him to. To be sure, Hydra would be rought with him too in their lessons out of necessity—he needed to be prepared for those sorts of assaults. But by ways of killing, well, she would do that herself until he was ready to do so. 

Hydra listened to him explain, considering a moment. These were things Hydra had not thought of, nor had she let herself think much on it. She had killed plenty, but never wondered about what their own life was like. She did not let the thought form in full, and answered, why? They have no regard for you, or your own. And once they are finished with you, you are no longer keeping them from the rest. Wolves such as you and I... we do not kill because we can, we kill because we must. The wolves that I speak of going against—they are indiscriminate in that. And that is why we must, when it comes to that sort, she explained. So that others will not meet the fate they hope to mete. But we will not do so alone; in this, we will stand together. If you come across them, and you cannot kill them, incapacitating them would be enough until someone could aid you. And I will teach you how to avoid them doing the same to you, she supplied. 

Hydra paused. I made an error, once—I let a wolf live because others thought he might be innocent. I saw with my own eyes, my sister pass, I saw him run from her body. I could have killed him, and I ought to of. But they thought that there was good in him, somewhere. She was a child, and he ran from her still warm body. If he did not kill her, he could have called—there might have been a chance. But he knew he did, he knew what he had done, and he ran. But your instinct, it tells you the truth of things. Of a wolf, of their nature. I looked at him, and I knew him for who he was. A coward, who could only kill defenseless children, she recalled with a grimace. I should have killed him, and I had an opportunity to. I stole his eye instead; my friends wished to give him the benefit of the doubt, and even though I knew the truth... I would not kill him either. I wanted to, but I also wondered if he could live with himself. If that sort of wolf could change, She licked her chops and looked to Bronco. He later in life went on to attack his pregnant sister, and to join the Blackfeather wolves who, at the time, had a reputation for stealing wolves, maiming senselessly, and the like. Towhee and your mother sought to kill him, once they discovered this, and drove him over a cliff. She looked to him now, and sighed. For myself, it was harder to live knowing the atrocities that were committed by my own decision to spare a wolf for hope of change. Wolves like that, she drawled, are broken. And there is only one way to repair that sort of internal break. 

Galaxy would never return to her, but others would live yet for his (presumed) death. 

Ideally, he truly was dead. But Hydra knew that the real monsters were terribly hard to kill, cowardly or not. Only the good died young, after all. 

Hydra shifted toward the topic of her young with Bronco, and she grinned. I can make no promises, she teased in a hum. They did enjoy greeting with their teeth sometimes, especially interesting newcomers. As far as the rest? You are talking just enough. You and I are similar, she drawled, others happiness makes us happy. It is important that our family be healthy and happy both; hunting is a passion of mine, too... and running, she revealed, thinking of her love for the chase... and to watch children is a great responsibility. It is no easy task, either, when they wish to play 'escape artist', she hummed.