Moonspear a cursed bloodline.

To the day she was born, to the day she left; Desdemona was always reminded she was a lower being. Her blood was a mistake, a night of fun that resulted in but cursed aftermath, and while no one blamed the man who did the deed, everyone cursed the mother who dared bring them near. How dare she continue to let them live, knowing they were filthy half-breeds. The very factor of their existence should of been ended, but they were of his blood, and he could not.

Tools is what they became, but alas it only worked for one; Desdemona.

Watching the demise of her brave brother broke something within, and the very thought of selling her sister out as but another whore was disgusting.. All the loyalty she gave, was but to waste for only because, the blood she has was not fully the wolf she wanted to be. 

Even her current time, did she stay in the background watching the glow of Moonspear, feeling undeserved by the moonlit touch. Paws bordering it, and inch by inch would she draw closer.. Before removing herself once more, and back to the stoic guard she always has, and always will be.

To Desdemona, Hydra was the peak of that glorious glow. She was strong and confident, leading the wolves of the mountain without doubt, and everyone followed with the upmost loyalty, including her. Many came just drawn to the beauty that the dark Queen produced, and many strive to gain a hand within that power. Alliances and friendships, for all wanted a piece to what they could not fully obtain themselves.

Truly, the Queen of the Wilderness.

"I hope for the day." A weak smile, was given. She truly hoped that perhaps one day these feelings of hers could be passed down and buried to the earthy grave. The words Alya had given 'lighten up,' in a general sense had grown her to be stronger.. Then Hydra's own words, confident of her growth, pushed the small, broken girl into but a light.

All could Desdemona do was hope, and with words at a loss, but a tinge of thankfulness to the Alpha, there was only a smile.