Moonspear give me something

She watched him go, watched as his limbs trembled, and terribly felt not a shred of remorse. 

A shame he had not trusted her. Trusted the care that had kept him living and breathing this long. A shame that she did not trust him, he who ran merrily alongside her most hated of enemies. Of course she could trust him no further. Of course. 

But her heart splintered once he was well and truly out of sight. With no one around to hear her, Hydra choked out a sob. Arcturus, Revui—for all of the love she bore for them both, for all she had ever done, this was the way they both repaid her. She wanted to hate, and only hate, but she ached and found her limbs quivering in much the same way her brothers had. Looking to the last place in which he had rest, she moved toward it; Hydra circled thrice and simply lay there to breathe in the scent of him one final time. 

She could not trust him, she reminded herself. But for as long as she rest there, she would let herself love him for a little while longer.