Bramblepoint growing strong

Hydra snorted as he took her fare from her, only to turn away: you are not going to try it? She queried, more offended by this than his actions. Not yet willing to engage in play quite yet, Hydra snuffled her way to another fresh, chilled treat and wagged her tail. Her stomach still did not protest, and she felt this good news. If we can eat this, at least, we should call to Moonspear. I can gather the children—there is enough to fill our bellies here, though... it is not meat. And perhaps we can bring some home to tempt meat to come, she tilted her head, and began to thaw this delicacy too. Hydra was far quicker this time around in her eating, a possessive paw flexed upon the edge of it. She paused when she neared its center, another scent causing her nose to wrinkle. That should be avoided. That smells too similar to an herb Lyra tried on a weasel while she trained... it killed him, an ear twitched. 

Which meant it might not be so good of a treat for their children, should they not take care. But they had all proven to be brilliant listeners and, terribly, Hydra thought that if any of them were not to listen they would be weeded out so the smart would survive. It was an easy thing to think, given the wits each of her cubs had shown her mate and her, but she looked to him and wondered if perhaps her idea was not the best one. He was always one to be honest with her. What do you think? she inquired; it would be nice to have their pack come together for something good. All the trouble that had surrounded them, it felt right to have a peaceful moment like this.