Moonspear you win or you die

Hydra heard him rustling about for more than five seconds; it meant he was distracted enough for her to close the distance there was between them. She bolted in the direction she knew him to be in, emerging from her shrewd cover the brush had given her; he was busy working at something in the earth, and Hydra moved to throw only a measure of her weight against him, fangs moving to pinch dotingly near his ribs if he was not swift enough to avoid her attempt at her playfully aggressive attack against him. 

The maneuver was halfhearted, with no wrath behind it—but she was eager to scuffle and romp with her equal in the ways she could not with her fragile children. She participated in such rough and tumble encounters with her sisters when they could; Hydra was never one to be out of practice.