Moonspear the problem with potions

Hydra listened and understood the meaning, and huffed a quiet sigh. And yet she understood; Nikai was a good man, at the heart of him. Pure. Too good, too pure—and there was no wolf too good for her sister, but his sort was not the type she envisioned for Alya. But what Hydra wanted most of all was her happiness; if too good and too pure were what made Alya feel this, then she would not dream of intervening... even if she could sense some quiet discontent. 

But now to hear it, Hydra wondered if Nikai could fulfill Alya in all the ways she required. A complex woman, Hydra felt Nikai could not satisfy each and every one of her desires. He would slow her down on her adventures away from home, and he would hold her back from her true potential by taming her. Hydra saw in her sister the wild still within, and heard it in her voice again. 

Hydra loved all of Alya. Gentle Alya, kind Alya, matronly Alya. Soft, or not, Hydra loved her beyond meaning just as she did Lyra... but that did not mean she did not miss what once was when Nikai had not yet existed to Alya. Hydra had always known of all of her sisters capabilities, but as she leaned against Alya she could not help but think that Nikai had played his part in her sisters life. 

Still. It was Alya's decision to call curtains. 

And so Hydra rumbled to echo Lyra's sentiments, taking to grooming her sister now. She would miss Alya while she was away; her sister always took a piece of her with her, when she left, and Hydra reveled in the moment to still have her here and feel whole. All the same, take all the time that you need, Hydra drawled between combing out any knots that might present themselves. There was not much disorder in her sisters coat, and so most of her grooming was simply a comforting rote.