Moonspear Whenever you're stuck, tell me what you need

Eyes still closed, Hydra could not see the expression the other wore for indication of feeling; she had to instead rely on the tone of her nieces voice. That was something she had never considered; the lack of true knowing. Voices could lie, could they not? And so how did Fennec divine the truth, beyond smelling and feeling? Expressions told a lot, eyes even more—but she did not doubt that Fennec knew how to rely upon her ears, listen with greater attention. Heed the hidden waver, the hesitations, the imperceptible trembles...

Her tactical mind was at work. Hydra could due to sharpen these skills. 

Fennec's tone, fortunately, had not been too difficult to discern. A playful sarcasm; she was not in a foul mood, and not unwelcome to company herself... and had a sense of humor. Hydra was not a humorless woman, though her jokes could be crueler and darker than most. I thought my niece might know the difference between a rock and a mountain, she teased in turn, voice light. It was clear enough Hydra understood the joke and the sentiment both, and was not bothered by it. Her own lips had upturned in a smirk to boot, and Hydra drew in a deep breath. Is this the first you have ever climbed? She inquired with true interest.