Moonspear three-headed menace

They were of one mind, as ever. Hydra looked to Alya, appreciative of her verbal agreeance. When Lyra spoke next, Hydra looked to her. As do we, she decided then, her life here will never be a completely comfortable one. This was a selfish thing, but it was how she felt. Hydra's dislike of Liffey could be compared, perhaps, to her fathers hatred of one of his own subordinates—Lazarus. Liffey was a challenge to her sisters emotions toward Rannoch, and Hydra could not abide by that for very long. 

Hydra sighed. Do you want Rannoch to stay? If she did, they must go about things in a subtle, different manner than Hydra's typically direct route of disposing of weeds. They could never formally show their shared hatred of her, if that was the case. Surely Rannoch, soft and sweet as he was, would detest to this and be on his knightly way. He was a good man, and too good for Liffey, a girl who could not even handle a dispatched wolverine. 

Poor, sweet Lyra. Hydra was infuriated that she be subject to such emotional tumult! 

Hydra loved her sisters more than anything; they were one in all things. They were a united front in each and every matter. And she needed to hear what Lyra desired now, though of course she already knew. 

600 FOR UUUUUU MY TWINS