Nova Peak The rhythm of a beating, braver heart.

mahler thought carefully of how he might word the communication that had passed between he and hydra. it would not do to suggest he had offered a political alliance based upon birth; that would only inspire a wrath he did not wish to kindle. and as he thought of it now, it was with an eye far less desiring of politics, and more directed toward the confirmation of the future.
"i vant to send them to hydra. first, to train. they are a place of varriors, and do not discriminate." hydra herself, an established queen in her mountainous seat of power. "in time, perhaps they might consider the sons of moonspear." he did not like to think of it, not now, but neither would mahler allow his daughters to be influenced by anything less than what he had granted. leadership. land. the seeking hereditary roots of his first litters. it was a silent part of him, one not yet insistent, but the gargoyle held fast all the same.