Moonspear my throat feels raw from all this screaming

thread title dedicated to gasparilla weekend and my present thoughts; im drunk so small post ahahhEHhe

 

The scent of elk hit Hydra in full; a large herd was moving through Moonspear. 

Was this the change of fortune? Hydra could only hope so, but whatever it was she would not let her discovery be for naught; she would see it through. Her keen nose picked up on the scent miles and miles ago; she forged ahead when new snows came and paused only long enough, now, to invite company. The herd was close now; no doubt they would have heard her song and be unsettled for it, but it was the way of the wilds. And that had ever been her own way.