Moonspear freeze all motor functions

Hydra prowled the borders, a low growl rattling forth from her throat as she noted the coyote scat much too near for her liking. The scent was new, and in her peripheral she caught a flash of movement—they were not past the borders, but too close for her comfort. Hydra rushed forward then, not waiting a moment more; she preferred preventative toward reactive, if it could be helped, and it was not difficult to know when a wild canid was testing their boundaries and about to act on their findings. 

A pity, she thought; for the moments the creature had left to feel, she knew for certain it would not at all like what they had found. It was swift, but Hydra was creative with her knowledge of home; she was able to cut it off quicker than even she had anticipated, and as it looked over its shoulder with a bemused look in its eye (that transitioned swiftly to plain horror), Hydra snared it in the trap of her jaws. Her own surprise was to its benefit; she released as she careened past, knowing if she did not she would become unbalanced and likely injured herself. It had but three seconds to recover—by one, Hydra had turned already (it gathered itself), by two, Hydra was bridging the short gap left between them (it sought to expand such a gap), and by three, Hydra was upon it again (it felt her hot breath along its withers) and was swift in bearing down upon it; she wasted no time in ending its life, making the ordeal as painless as possible for the thing. 

There was a thrill in killing, and she felt it then as she looked upon the corpse—and the joy she felt was from knowing that those she loved who could not defend themselves from such an animal were safe for another day. Hydra picked the thing up and made her way back toward the territory, debating between burying the animal or bringing it to her siblings to play with.