Moonspear hopes and dreams, they will collide

The matriarch sought her mate. In the oncoming days she might again fend against it, as she had in years past, but as it stood she did not; long-legged strides took her through the Netherwood. The fog parted around her as she ascended, up and up—until she nipped at their children and tackled them each (in good spirits) before leaving them to it. Alya and Lyra were at the borders and she gave her cubs room enough to make their own decisions; the moment one disobeyed her, they would all pay for it... but she trusted them enough to roam Moonspear as they desired now, at least. 

The scent of @Dirge was strongest where flat rock lay, but beyond that was a plateau that leant plenty of room to wander; Hydra maneuvered the steep incline without error, pressing against ice with blunted claw and pushing calloused paws against slick earth so that her muscle could accomodate what made things near impossible to all else. Her tail swayed behind her as the matriarch sought to bridge the gap; how much there children had grown! How much they, too, had in all that time.