Moonspear like the vapor of a vale

The manners of Tehama were impeccable; Hydra quite appreciated this, a woman who ever adored a sense of decorum. She was somewhat of a traditionalist, in that way—but far more forward thinking, and unafraid to get her own hands dirty to accomplish a task that needed doing. She wondered if Tehama was that way too; all the better if she was. She observed the emotions that played on the features of the woman as she spoke, finding herself all the more drawn to the woman for her kind responsiveness. The she wolfs understanding only further endeared Hydra to the newcomer, and Hydra was only sorry that she had not been able to meet her sooner. And so it was in earnest that Hydra returned her introductory phrase with, the pleasure is mine, with a gentle wave of her tail. 

Her eyes turned toward the Glen at Tehama's gesture, one ear trained still on the Mu as she spoke. A smile found its way to her lips, then, softening her features that for those outside of her claim were often solely severe and indifferent. When my firstborns... that is Atlas, Osiris, Vega, and Antares, she informed, looking back to Tehama for a brief moment before her gaze returned toward the Glen, beginning again, when my firstborns were born... there came a famine. Moonspear was fortunate to have fought well for those resources within the Glen, for the pack and our children to not go hungry, she remembered, and despite the darkness of the times there was pride in her voice that together... they had endured and survived. The hunting, even for Winter, was scarce. We have always considered the Glen something of an extension of our hunting grounds, since I was a girl and my own mother and father ruled this place... and that Winter in particular, I was glad for it. Of course that it was unofficial meant that others would try their luck... but it was often for naught, her gaze turned upward and watched a particularly thick snowflake spiral down slowly before her as she recollected that terrible Winter. Worse for others than for them, and for that Hydra was thankful, terribly enough. Her children were well fed and survived. Her pack, too. She had not a singular regret.  

I never minded that others might pass through, up until Mira was taken. And now Moonspear can be all the safer from such unsavory sorts, her tail waved, as she considered aloud, ...the children of the Glen can be reared upon Moonspear to be all the further from that sort of fate. More resources, still, and hopefully a better fortune for the rest, she drawled, looking once more toward Tehama. Hydra, most of all, wanted to keep her wolves and their children protected. The Glen and Moonspear were one and the same to her; they were all pack, all family.