Moonspear this soul's a stowaway

He made an appraising note to her commentary.

“The birds need to stop talking,” he said. “They should already know the hills have eyes.” And thankfully, the eye having hills were not made of cannibals, though he knew even now there were no doubt at least another set or two watching them. Perhaps their trademark of distantly studying one another, though it was mostly confined to Hydra and her sisters; he would not have put it past some of his older children to have taken up the art either.

Of course, the same could have been said of him, too.

“I’m sure they’ll be eager to meet you though. The youngest are a bit of a feisty bunch too, so I’d recommend you keep track of your ankles unless you’re willing to take on more tormentors.” This time he did sneer at her, in all its good nature.