Moonspear this sentence will ruin/save your life

He had been right; Hydra wanted nothing to do with the Hollow. It was where Rannoch and Liffey had placed their latest (well, not anymore) claim, in her eyes; she would not deign to touch such a place. He spoke of his mate having cubs, which was something else for her to consider... but perhaps they would be old enough to not need the resources she craved for her own children. Everything. Anything. As far as neutral grounds went, Hydra looked as though she was considering something for a moment; her lifetime had been upon this mountain. It had belonged to her mother, her father; they would not relinquish it. Not for anything. 

And at present, she felt the very same. The rawness of her parents death did nothing to change her loyalty to this place, because they had instilled within her their perspective. And anyway, she knew it was not the mountain that had killed either of them in the end. 

Her gaze shifted from the horizon to him as he spoke again, answering her other inquiry. In most, their ideals were similar. Had that not always been Moonspear's way? Indeed, it had—but never the Hollow's. Liffey and Rannoch had seen to that. If she were in better spirits, she might have smiled at the irony of it—all of it. A pack, cultivated based on opposing ideals with the pack they fled from only to embrace them again. So, she started, lifting her head and giving him a look that was playful, Moonspear? she teased; for was that not what they already were, and already fostered? Those that joined them did become family overtime. They were loved and protected as such... Hydra had faced the consequences of that, but she did not appear resistant to the idea of it, if not because ultimately her goal was expansion then because she had always practiced such ideals. Had she not treated Terance like a brother? Had her father not taken him under his wing, in his way? 

So much time had passed, and with the whirlwind of events that had transpired these past weeks it was hard to remember. 

It is romantic, she agreed, but did not refute his point of attainability; she had romantic ideas of her own, after all. But now to admit the initial fault in his ideas—amendable ones, but perhaps ones that Arbiter would not like. She sounded smart, at the very least... and they would have a common enemy, if Liffey was worth being deemed such. 

Hydra shifted her weight, quiet for a moment, before she spoke. Equals... she began, weighing the word on her tongue. Her own gaze did not narrow upon him as she continued: I can understand Arbiter not wanting to answer to another like Rannoch, who lived off of the fat of the land along with his wife and was first to everyone, including you; and perhaps the Hollow, and fatherhood, caused him to become more lax and lazy in areas where, as a leader, he should not have... she acknowledged, though her tone held no blame or malice. It was a credit to Arbiter for not wanting as much. And for the first time, she was first—to Terance, and to her pack. Who would want to let that go? But that was who you left to follow, every step of the way. You are one of the most loyal wolves I know, Terance, but who you committed your loyalty to... therein lay the heart of the issue. She considered that if circumstances were different, they may already have arrived to the point he had brought to her. For me to begin to consider us as equals, I would need to come to trust you again as pack. She was not so naive as Liffey, as Rannoch, and it showed. Perhaps that could be appreciated, but she did not think he would love the idea—in fact, she expected, and would understand, resistance. 

And she did not know Arbiter; how was she, as a leader? A woman?

Hydra continued, drawing in a measured breath. I have romantic ideals of my own. My fathers last dreams, that I would see be brought to fruition. Expansion. An eventual claim upon this Wilderness. It is a lofty goal, but perhaps you and your Arbiter could be commanders yourselves, if you wished; we would be free to roam within one anothers claim at leisure. Though I would be Queen, the only time I would ever be answered to in full is in times of war, her ears twitched at that; he may understand why, now, at least. With so many differing ideals about Titmouse, he was left to roam free; somewhere he skulked about, she imagined. I would consider the thoughts of my war counsel, however, the implication that he and Arbiter, if trusted, would find themselves upon that list (should they rule their own faction, how could they not be?); and when was there war to worry about? There need not be, if no murderers of children came around the Wilderness she sought to claim. 

That way, he would find his own claim beyond Moonspear; he would further his own legacy, and they could combine to become greater than any could hope.