Moonspear Vienna

I agree, she answered in earnest. Hydra hated to know that they did. But Bronco would hear so for himself, soon enough, she was certain. And perhaps see it, though she hoped he would not be victim of it, which is why I fight, and why I am so eager to train my family to know how. So they need not look over their shoulder in fear, she hummed. And she quieted, listening to Bronco now. 

He made good points. 

It was not her fault. Hydra once blamed herself, but now rest the blame upon the shoulders of those that had never acted. Those that had judged her for the things she had done, in the name of justice—and she had given him more than he deserved, that he breathed still once she was finished with him. But had she done the right thing, the responsible thing... had she cared less for their opinions of her... so much trouble could have been prevented. 

Hydra looked to him when he commended her. He could not know it, but it meant much to her. Bronco had a good, selfless heart. He was young, younger perhaps than Rannoch and Terance and Liffey and Wraen had been when they had all made their judgment of her, and stamped monster to her name. How was it that he had a better understanding of this, of her, than her own friends had? Well, two of them had been her friends. The rest... 

I thank you, for thinking so, she hummed, all that I can ever do is my best—and for you, my family, my pack... it is all I will ever try to do, her ears twitched atop her crown. Such things might be cruel and terrible, but if that meant their safety, nothing and no one would stop her. Not anymore. 

As the topic shifted to children, Hydra hummed, eight—though this litter, four. And Kukutux has had two, this year, she informed, plenty of children for you to look after and keep you busy, I think, she grinned at that.