Moonspear little monster

Vega tired of the game first, and she watched as Osiris teamed up with one of his brothers to harass the other. It was good practice, she thought to herself. One never knew what the wilds might throw at you. Rannoch had been overwhelmed by an utter stranger; if it had been two strangers, perhaps there would have been no hope for him—three, surely a fatality were none to come to his rescue. Her children, she would ensure, could and would be able to fend for themselves until help did come, and if none could they would learn how to be their own hero. Hydra felt they had it in them, but would ensure it. 

She moved to exhale a warm breath on her daughters forehead before nipping the tip of an ear, appeased by the approach. Vega looked so much like her father! It was a marvel to behold, and Hydra gestured toward her still-playing brothers, immersed in the play-fight. High-pitched snarls and yips and the full-throated barks of youth filled the air, and Hydra's gaze shifted again to her daughter. There is much that can be learned by simply watching, she informed quietly. It would be a lesson she would impart upon her sons, too—but Vega would be the first to learn. Hydra had hoped for only sons, and yet found she was not at all unsatisfied in having had a daughter.