Moonspear wake up, am I dreaming?

Huā described the man. 

Dog was not something Hydra had ever heard of before, but she felt—as Huā described his tail—she had seen something of the sort before. And if she hadn't, well, she imagined she might know it when she saw it. Dog was not wolf, that much she gathered. So he would smell foul, like the coyote and the fox. And the stripes... how many wolves wore stripes in the Wilds? 

No, she agreed to the count of trouble, creatures such as they never will be, if not stopped, she knew. Why should they? Why would they? It was their nature. And they were being permitted to act in such a way, given the green light and the go ahead by all those who would not fight back. Hydra sighed. I must think on this. See if I can learn any more, while I am at it, she decided, ear flicking. The Saints were some distance away; Hydra looked to the peaks beyond. While she did not want to grant them the opportunity to wrong her, they also had yet to do so on a personal level. 

All things, in time. Should she grant them the chance? 

Much to think on, and mull over. And she would. 

Looking back to Huā, she hummed, perhaps when these rains end, our children might meet, and we can speak again. What do you think of this? she inquired with a prick of her ears.