Moonspear boss of me

It was not Jarilo who came when beckoned. When hearing calls at the borders, Hydra heard no name; she was diligent and protective both, and never lazy, even in her hiatus. She had been content, as of late, to lurk in the backdrop and observe her siblings excel; but with Vela's absence, Hydra took it upon herself to resume her prior duties. Not yet in full, but in time she would come to that again—instinct could not be ignored. Pricked ears caught the sound of Clover's call, foreign to her; the black as pitch bitch was near enough to intercept the woman who had sang, and so she did. 

The first thing that Hydra observed was that stripe upon her back; if she had known all Blackthorns to bear it, one would witness the longevity of a grudge that still lived even when Hydra herself had thought it dead. That being said, though her eyes lingered upon the stripe from afar, there was nothing else very remarkable about Clover... she was small, the smallest she-wolf Hydra had ever seen, but clearly not a child. Interesting. Useful, perhaps. Or useless—

She would like to find out, she determined, but did not think she would get the chance. A shame. Hydra pulled to a halt, lifting her head and greeting her with a simple: Yes?