Big Salmon Lake Pandora's Box

@Hydra 

A young mink male had set a territory near a river and had just chased off another competitor for his claim, without realizing that his own demise was near. Having gone hungry for few days now and suffering still from the wounds that refused to heal, Sarah jumped at the opportunity to kill a fellow predator. A quick chain of lucky coincidences in her favour and the little, aggressive animal's victorious saunter homewards was interrupted and ended with not so much as a squeak and the quiet crack of it's spine.

The sick she-wolf gobbled it whole, hardly chewing at all and spent the next quarter of an hour, sniffing around the mink's territory, searching for tracks of anyone else that could be just as easy to catch. Unfortunately, that was all her luck today, therefore she settled by the little stream near the lake. There she quenched her thirst and then began to tend for the infected flesh, where she could reach it.

Hydra's exploration of Moonspear was done simply because live prey upon it were limited to smaller fare. The other day she had scented a sickly moose, and seen it, too; today she wondered if she might find any other of its fellows. As she investigated the lake, she only found its destruction with a wrinkle of her nose—the reek of it remained. Had it died, she wondered? Had its disease spread? That, too, she sought to investigate. 

Fortunately, the answer to the latter question seemed to be no. Content by this at least, Hydra paused in her task to head to the lake to take a drink from it herself. Upon emerging from the woods surrounding the lake she caught sight of a familiar face—Hydra had not smelled her, having been downwind of her, but recognition was now there. She was certain her own face would likely be the last the injured party wanted to see, nevermind hear. Across from her, the lake rippling in between them, Hydra was utterly still—quiet and watchful. The Queen did not much care for what the stranger wanted—not when they had actively tried to fight for what Hydra had claimed for her family and her (known) allies. She waited to see how the other would behave; would they turn aggressive, or not?

One particular patch on Sarah's scruff was impossible for her to reach with her muzzle. A hefty scratch there, however, removed a piece of blackened-dried out skin and released a smell of infection and bare flesh. She wrinkled her muzzle and then lapped up as much of capillary blood around the wound as she could pick up. The cold air against that open, inflamed wound was pleasant and inspired by this, she looked around for a bit of snow to roll in. 

This had to be postponed for later, because the injured wolf grew aware of being watched. You did not have to see, smell or hear the enemy. You knew in the pit of the stomach that you had to be alert, that you had to search. And her gaze finally settled on a dark shape outlined right next to the lake. Sarah's cold gaze rested upon the stranger, but all dark wolves look the same from the distance. She did not recognize the Moonspear's Queen yet. Still, the "who looks away first" game could be played by two. She sat down and "observed back".

Hydra did not remove her gaze from the other. 

Even when her head dipped so that she might begin to drink her gaze lingered, though there was no emotion to speak of to be seen there. She did not hate the woman for acting in accordance to her instincts to survive, though she thought her foolish for throwing herself against two others. Hydra could not yet smell the repercussions of the others actions—the infection that had set in—still being downwind, but her lingering gaze assessed the other and could then see the marked flesh, puckering and swollen and red against silver. 

Still, Hydra did not look away; she continued to drink, watching and waiting—she wondered if the other would elect to quit the scene, or if she would remain. Hydra had her own investigation to finish and would not be leaving until it was done. A notched ear flicked as the wind caused the branches just beyond them to stir, still lapping at the waters.

Sarah's take of events that had left her with torn flesh and inflamed lungs was very different from Hydra's. Escape had not been an option, when there are two killers first aiming for your throat and guts, second - trying to drown you and doing other damage. In her eyes the black woman, though she had not attacked her personally, was equally guilty. She had given the order to do harm. 

Now that she had ventured closer, she recognized the self-proclaimed Queen of Moonspear. Supposed ally. Terance's friend. Her enemy. If she had considered herself dead inside few weeks prior, then the empty room in her heart was filled with so much hate and resentment towards the wrong-doer, that it made her forget the pain and approach the other in more dedicated manner than earlier.

"You were bolder, when your army backed you," Sarah told her. "Why hold back now?"

Hydra shifted when the other did, not mimicking her motions but simply preparing herself for what could come. When Sarah spoke, Hydra looked her over; she had no idea that the woman was with the Hollow, or that Terance was her brother—just that she had sought to steal what was not her own. The inquiry was met with a blink, and a bored once-over. You do not seem worth the energy, she admitted with an apathetic shrug. Sarah was weakened, infected—Hydra need not kill her, though she felt she could. She would leave that to the Wilderness unless otherwise provoked. As Sarah approached, rounding the lake slowly, Hydra tilted her head—it did not take a mindreader to know what the other felt, though Hydra did not believe the other blamed her as she did: you could have left when you had the chance. The fight was to protect the meat; you could have run, as the other wolf had. He has no injury to show for his wisdom, she drawled, shifting to face the woman as she approached. It was idly done that Hydra set her defenses, the act natural and coming to her easily subtle though it was. Hydra finished her train of thought with: so, why was it you fought? Hydra had not seen it from her perspective at all that she felt the others were going to kill her. Hydra had simply seen the other glut themselves and linger, a bloated little leech that wanted to take more from her family. 

If Sarah wanted to die now, Hydra would find out based on her next actions. She would happily give the woman what she wanted, though without provocation Hydra was more interested in the preservation of her energy and her health alike. Sarah had but one thing to lose now, and Hydra wondered if the stranger—a lone straggler, as far as Hydra knew—was willing to lose it.

"True," Sarah agreed, she had no intention to fight and become someone else's lunch today. "That's not your style. Others do the dirty work for you," she remarked, then listened in attentive silence to the rest of, what the Queen had to say. Her recount of events was biased and highly amusing, a humourless smirk set in her lips, she almost laughed. 

"Maybe because I did not have much options, where to run?" she suggested. "Two underlings you sent my way went for my throat, attempted to drown and gut me," Sarah counted, what she could remember clearly. "If there was any hidden diplomacy in that move, I did not see it," she summed up.

Hydra felt a bemused smile cross her lips before she could withhold it. I suppose you were busy behaving the fool to miss my own actions that day, she drawled, blinking slowly. Her own expression was not without true humor; she found this woman amusing, genuinely. The infection perhaps reached her mind; her tongue ran, but there was not much thought behind it. Had there ever been? Not since the moment Hydra had seen her first; it could easily be a part of the others condition, she supposed. 

The best option would have been away, as the other had known to head, she rejoined cooly, truly perplexed how the other did not have the sense to know that much. Do you genuinely think killing any other needlessly to be the goal that day? No—it was defending food from invaders not of this Wilderness. There are enough mouths to feed here, she finished, you fought against a man and a child learning to use their teeth properly. And if either of them had taken her throat, it was because she had encouraged them to do so by fighting back when she simply could have fled. 

You would be dead if they wanted you that way, Hydra said slowly, so the other could understand; why only injure you, after all, and not finish the job if that was their goal to start with? That did not make sense, not in the slightest, to the woman ruled by logic.

"You may have been looking the other way yourself," Sarah pointed out, because she recalled fighting a man (Black Hat), but the dark-pelted she-wolf (Tzila) had been no child. The Queen was mistaking them for others. "I know a killer, when I meet one. The ones you describe were not those, who I faced, or they were just too enthusiastic taking your orders," she gave share to the argument, which was pointless really by now. The fight was over, she had got worst of it and her goal now was to heal. 

"Fickle nature of the gods," Sarah explained. They had been bored inside their golden villas in Olympus and therefore had come together for a game of dice-rolling. She had survived despite the odds. "Unwise of me to argue on your grounds, really," she mused, now drunk on fever and therefore unusually talkative. "But I still feel a little insulted. I was told that Moonspear were to be considered allies."

Hydra thought on that. Perhaps she had been, but even so Hydra's final point remained the same—if they had wanted to kill Sarah, they would not have stopped once she had been beaten. They would have finished her. Hydra had been mistaken—she blurred Valour's face with that of Tzila, and thus confused their ages... all possible in the midst of the chaos, and as Hydra thought on that longer she realized she had been mistaken in who attacked her other than that man. But it did not warrant correction; what had happened, happened. And Sarah still lived, a little worse for wear for her own participation.

With a shift of her weight, Hydra addressed her first point. I would not be surprised if it were the latter; we are all hungry here, and may be too eager to protect what we might find in these wilds. You were caught in the crossfire. and Hydra could not feel bad for that; had Hydra been in her shoes, even she would have fled in the name of self-preservation if she had gotten to eat as she had seen Sarah scarf the food down. It did not look like she was pulling for more for her own pack, but acting in a selfishly motivated way—for her own survival. No harm in that, until you got in her way. Sarah had seemed keen on doing that rather than fleeing.

The Queen nearly snickered as she spoke of gods. If there are such thing as gods, she drawled, they had nothing to do with your survival. If you were wanted dead, you saw how many wolves there were for yourself. I tell you, killing you was not our concern; we are a faithless lot. We fight to survive; killing you would have done nothing for any of us unless you were intent on killing one of our own. In which case, they were both fighting for their lives—and could Sarah blame either of the duo for doing as she did? She finished the thought with an impassive, it was not personal. It seemed as though the other thought there had been a vendetta against her; it was not so. And if it was, before Sarah could even consider that Hydra herself would have gone for her throat the moment she observed her.  

Hydra blinked again as the other spoke on, surprised to hear Sarah relent at all but pleased for it nonetheless. But as she spoke on, Hydra was given pause. In the throes of all the chaos, Hydra had only been able to smell Easthollow—and the dark, agouti Easthollow wolf had done nothing to defend her. I had thought you to be a lone wolf, she admitted, frowning some now. Each from a pack had sought more for their own; you were the only one there to feed yourself. Why have you not returned, if you have a pack? To which do you belong to? She asked for confirmation sake; she would not put words in the others mouth should the silver she-wolf be fabricating anything.

"I beg to differ. Each of us has a god that serves us well. You tell yourself to be faithless, but even belief in non-existence of gods is a sort of religion," Sarah replied, but was not going to push the argument further either. She had already decided that two of them would never find a common ground to agree upon things and that despite the difference in opinions, they were very similar. Stubborn to a fault in believing that the truth and right was on their side.

"Personal is not the same as important, yes," she agreed and yet she was entitled to feel resentful still. Because it was not the Queen, who was suffering from the onset of pneumonia and infection eating her skin and muscles away. All things considered, she was responsible still, but Sarah was not that conceited to push this from the other person. Hating freely and being angry, while keeping your face straight and manners polite to that object was just as entertaining.

"Lost Creek Hollow. Terance is my brother," Sarah offered. One spiteful idea had been to tell this all to him and see, what he would do about it. Take sides, defend her honour or agree with Moonspear's point of view? Yet she did not think that testing him that way was fair. That would prove her weakness only and she would rather die than show it. Plus, in a way art collectors evaluate and admire millions-worth of paintings she began to like the Moonspear's leader.

Was it? Hydra had not thought so, and even still did not—but if everything must have a name, or a place, or an alignment within the others mind then so be it. As long as she knew the point of it: no god had saved her. To blame the choices of others on gods felt wrong to Hydra; it was a cop-out, for the other. Sarah had not been saved by god but by her decision to flee at last. No god guided the strings of those that went against Sarah that day—they had decided to act upon her words. Hydra could admit she had made the command because she had, and took no issue with it. If Sarah had run to start with she likely would not have the injuries she sustained or suffered from her infection... the worst injury likely would have been, to that make-believe end, the others pride. 

To an extent Hydra could understand Sarah's frustration. She was not only hungry now but hurt. Sarah placed the blame on Hydra rather than herself for perhaps some relief from the feeling of failure... as she thought on it, Hydra imagined she might do the same if she was dealing with infection and hunger both as the other did. 

When Sarah spoke, she found her question answered and was met with some surprise as she shared her relation with Terance. Hydra had to laugh as she jubilantly drawled: it is no wonder you fought! Your brother thought he could best a bear once—I see you share the same fighting spirit, her tail waved to think of it, and her opinion of Sarah shifted drastically. Terance, too, had lost. Frowning some as Hydra took stock of the others injuries once more; though Sarah had answered one question she had not yet answered the other. Hydra would likely ask again, but felt this more important: If you wish, my sister can treat your wounds, at this point, it was the least Hydra felt she could do for Sarah. Though she still felt that the other had gotten herself into that situation and had no one but herself to blame for it, knowing who and where she came from was what caused Hydra to extend something of an olive branch. 

Hydra, too, in her way, had come to appreciate Sarah's approach; it had her brother written all over it, who the Ostrega, like it or not, still cared plenty for.

Sarah was not someone, who either cared or strived for compliments, therefore Hydra's praise went past her ears. There was a flash of curiosity, when Terance's tango with a bear was mentioned, something akin' to a pride blinked it's sleepy eyes inside her heart, but she did not hold onto this emotion either. There was no need to feel satisfaction for wrong decisions and reckless acts. Let alone hear someone else's high opinion of them.

"No need. I intend to drag my sick ass back to hollow and die with my brother next to me. Imagine, how highly amusing it would be to tell, how it all happened. I already look like crap, no need to exaggerate anything," this was fever talking and, though the joke was very dark, there was a drunken good-humour behind it. "In all honesty though I am in no hurry to take the pain away. Makes me feel alive," she added with a look of a person. Who had said it - I think, therefore I am? 

"No hurry to return either - this has been a very entertaining journey anyway," she shrugged. "So, Queen of Moonspear, do you have a name?"

Hydra had heard tell of wolves and the way they died when sick or else injured. They retreated from pack and kept hidden and died alone. Though Sarah's words were spoken with good-humor, Hydra wondered if that was why Sarah had decided against answering Hydra's previous question from moments ago. Never one to skirt around the truth or what it might be, Hydra tilted her head and asked: are you dying? Her plan sounded nice in theory, but that was assuming Sarah made it back to the Hollow at all. Near or far, the journey home for Sarah in this upended world where nature became unpredictable did not look good, particularly in her condition. 

With a twinkle in her eye, Hydra drawled, we need not give you herbs for pain, if that is the case. Only something to help fight the infection, she offered, less out of pity and more because Sarah truly had come to amuse her. Dark humor and all. If Sarah was to die from this, Hydra at least wanted to believe she might make it to her brother. A selfish thing that, but it was, this time around, less for herself and more for Terance. 

No? She asked, ears twitching. Then perhaps you might make yourself useful and join me and mine, Hydra quipped playfully, we can ensure one anothers mutual survival in this hell, and remind one another we are still alive. I shall not encourage any more to chase you from food, either, a sore subject to be sure, but Hydra did not mean to be funny as she finished. Hydra wanted to give Sarah her will back, be it reminding her to return home to her brother or perhaps to join her. Her loyalty to Terance would ever remain throughout—Hydra always meant to act in the best interests of those she called friends. The woman thought she did as much now. It may make an even better, more entertaining story, she tempted with the amicable wave of her tail, blue eyes looking to Sarah's injuries. 

Hydra did not think the other would take her up on the offer, and would not fault her for it either. If Sarah truly was dying, then she likely would not want the help to extend the inevitable. And if her loyalty was simply to Terance and Terance alone, she could understand that too; her hope in the moment was not to take his sister from him, but to help her survive through the calamity as best she could. If Sarah intended to stay unattached to any in the Wilderness, she was as good as a lone wolf and a competitor to those that starved. Hydra imagined Sarah in better condition; strong and hale, helpful in the matters of hunting and the like. 

Hydra Ostrega, she introduced, and inquired next, and who might you be, fighter of the Hollow? Hydra hummed, already knowing the woman to be far more than simply the sister of Terance... even though they shared the same foolhardy brain.

"Not unless you wish me to," Sarah tilted her head to the side and smiled cheekily at Hydra. Death was an old friend of hers. Call it the only god she truly believed to exist. It had not reaped her many times, when she had come close, which meant that there was still plenty of sand in her life-timer left and her wishes regarding ending her life were irrelevant. With all the misadventures of not-dying, Sarah had come to believe that the old black-clad skeleton with blue flame in it's eyes was watching her amusedly. Though, in all honesty, the fever was doing the talking, the flirting and - who would have thought - creative thinking.

The last thing she had expected was that Hydra would offer to join her ranks, therefore Sarah took it as another joke. She could not speak much for the Queen, but she was bad at joking and even worse at laughing in the right moment. She was notorious for missing punch-lines. But she agreed - joining with the enemy would be a far more hilarious tale than the other one. "Not yet. I will keep that offer in mind, though. Just in case," she replied diplomatically, thinking about Terance and would it really make a big difference, if she decided to live elsewhere. And if there was no difference, then why should she join any place at all? Why not be a lone wolf, face all the dangers of the world, but be true to herself? Pretending that she was okay and keeping her shit together was a daunting task and it was refreshing that with all her honesty and disrespectfulness to Hydra, she had been still deemed worthy to join her army.

"Sarah - family's name is no longer important and my full-name has never been used," she introduced herself.

Hydra knew well death was friend to none, least of all her though she had helped bring more to Its party than most. Having seen her sister stolen from this plane too soon saw to that. It was a sobering truth, but one that made her stronger to learn. Hydra was a terribly proud woman, but death had humbled her some. Not today, the Queen drawled, knowing it was in her power to do so. No... she had not noted Sarah's disrespect today (having perceived it to be another thing entirely), and come to understand why she might be the way that she was.

That did not mean that if Sarah challenged her for food again Hydra might not change her mind. It was all circumstantial; if Sarah was to bring anything home to Terance, Hydra would be far more forgiving than if she was simply to glut herself. Hydra could only hope that Sarah had learned her lesson to retreat before death came to visit again—Sarah might come to find that Its blue gaze was too similar to her own. 

Identical, even. 

Her ear flicked as Sarah decided, for now, against her offer; if Sarah had any question about the issues of a lone wolf, she would do well to remember how she was treated alongside the carcass. Do that, she encouraged with a flick of her ear. As Sarah introduced herself, surnameless, Hydra found herself quite curious. No longer important? It was none of her business, but Hydra could not relate. It had once been important to Terance; he introduced himself by firstly speaking of his mothers name in full. What had it been? 

Years, and she had not forgotten—but she did not say it. Had it been so long since they had first met...? 

But she did not ask. If Sarah had wanted her to know, surely she would have told her. 

What keeps you from home, in any case? Hydra asked then; she wondered if Terance already thought Sarah dead, what with the quakes and the like. Hydra also wondered if Sarah had smelled the foul scent that came from the moose or if she had not noticed beyond the scent of her own infection.

"With me being like this, you would not imagine my progress homewards very fast," Sarah pointed out the obvious. The path that she had taken to cross the mountain range, which divided this valley from the one she called her home, was potentially dangerous and barren. Physically she could manage it, but her chances at survival were better if she did not exert herself before time. Food was scarce here as it had been over there, but still she had decided to hunt closer for her current residence.

"I am curious to see, if this land has more to offer than the other," she stated the official, feasible, practical, expected reason for not being with the hollow wolves. Not even Hydra needed to know that Sarah had felt disconnected from almost every wolf (Gannet, Ibis and Mahler were probably exceptions) and that the more time passed, the less clear it was to Sarah, what good was in her staying. She recalled the flame, the eagerness, the pride she once had had in leading alongside her father. Now she could not rekindle it. There were cold ashes in the formerly white-hot hearth. She no longer had any ambitions. She had been a Queen once and the fall from the throne had been too painful. 

"It's not much different. Terance would want to know," she shrugged. "Are you a particular friend of his? Should I - if I meet him - pass on well-wishes and good-healths from you?"

No, she concurred, but then that did not answer her question all that well. Hydra had known that much and extended her invitation thusly, but the other here and now seemed to favor her loneliness. It was a lone wolf Sarah was becoming, tied to none, in this way. But you waste your energy and your health here by your lonesome. You may squander what potential there is for you to return home at all should both take a downward spiral, she thought aloud with a frown, and, speaking of health—

I smelled, and saw, a moose in poor health recently. He passed through here. I have never smelled anything like it, but the scent... I noticed it again over there... it... it is a moose I do not think should be eaten, she forewarned, rising to all fours and gesturing to her side so that she could take Sarah to where she had observed it. Perhaps Sarah might know the scent for what it was by name; Hydra was not sure, only that she ought to steer clear of the beast. 

She had heard, if she remembered correctly, all were suffering from this shortage of food—even wolves from beyond seemed to come to these lands due to the absence of it. Alya had said as much, and Hydra trusted her word. As for her brother? I would like to think so, she quipped, ear flicking. The duo had been through a lot, after all, and he had apologized to her enough for her to know she was worth something to her—though actions always meant more to her. But to say those words, he had traveled miles and miles to speak them. 

Yes, the Ostrega answered, how did he fare, the last time you saw him? He had been through his own trials she understood, but she suspected he was doing well enough and that the Hollow still stood as he had not come to her as she had once wished he might.

Sarah did not take patronizing kindly and though it had been easy to look past in the initial stages of the conversation, now she began to feel slightly annoyed. Hydra did not only think that she knew better, she firmly believed that she was right about every single word she said. And probably many, many other things. An instinct told her that there was nothing that she could say to change the Queen's mind. 

So, as people usually deal with all rock-solid characters, they pretend to agree nodding and smiling patiently, but they do as they please behind their backs. Sarah did not say anything, just put this observation on a shelf for future use. Oh, how much entertainment she was going have by encouraging the other by downplaying her own intellect. This was even more exciting  - with Mahler she could discuss things as between equals, with Hydra she could attempt to manipulate. With this thought in mind she made mental arrangements for a possible future appointment with the new subject of interest.

"Oh, he is fine," this was the very handy ambiguous answer that put Sarah in a neutral position. "Raising children, leader duties - you know, how it is in these trying times," she elaborated a little. "I gather there won't be much competition with that particular moose?" Sarah reverted the conversation back to an earlier subject. "It is a dilemma, truly - you see, dying from crippling hunger is kind of worse than dying with a full belly of poisoned meat. At least you are full, when you pass on to the next world," she speculated.

The truth of it was, Hydra did not mean to patronize—though she certainly was doing so—Sarah in her words. She had simply seen for herself what terrible injury could do, and in these times the odds of recovery seemed abysmal. She did not want Terance to suffer how she had; since Titmouse's silence, she had vowed never to be such a way. Her own volume could be grating to those who did not know her well enough to understand that when she did speak in such a way, it came from a good place. 

But by now, through the others nodding and the like, Hydra understood it was likely for naught. She had tried, truly! But the choice made here was for Sarah to make, not her. Hydra still did not think the woman stupid for it; she supposed Sarah had already accepted her death, and that was that. 

So much so that she elected to eat the meat! 

Resigned, now, to accept Sarah's stance, Hydra shook her head. Not from me, nor any of Moonspear I would hope—but hunger has a way of making the most obedient question the advisement given... She considered this with a sigh, and she looked to Sarah as she brought on dying being better with food in the belly. Somehow, it made Hydra think of her father and a story he had shared with she and her siblings of Valhalla. When one died, all things upon their grave were brought with them to that place... 

Rocks. Rocks were upon the grave of her mother and father; but a piece of Moonspear. If he believed in Valhalla, let him take those stones there—he believed in her, in that mountain, more than she had known him to believe in anything. 

It was a cruel thought that had come to her, to allow Sarah to this meat and to seek her again to observe her, and her health then... but the behavior of the moose came to mind, so unlike its nature and so vitriolic toward something unseen. But if Sarah was to die, she ought to go out how she wished.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Hydra meant well, but irked Sarah. When she would recall this meeting later, she would remember this annoying trait of the Queen first. There was something very fascinating and terrible at the same time about people, who believed that everything they did or thought was right and for the good. The grizzled she-wolf might not have known several instances from the world history, where just this kind of attitude had brought to horrible consequences, but she knew instinctively that Hydra was dangerous. For her own good and survival it was better to keep her in the friend zone. 

"You cannot imagine," Sarah remarked, wondering, if Hydra had the slightest idea, what famine truly meant. It could drive you mad, make you contemplate and justify things that you would never otherwise dream of doing. "Well," she got to her feet and stretched. Sick or not that moose was not standing still and waiting for her to catch up. It was either this, or lying in some corner, waiting to die. And since she had already wonderfully exaggerated her upcoming doom to Hydra - that lass truly believed that she saw Sarah for the first and last time - there was nothing else left for them to discuss. "If I get well, I fancy I will come and see you again. If not - I will come and haunt you and your family," she told her with a sly grin. Both options were tempting.

You can conclude and fade in your next post. Thanks! This was very entertaining. :)

Hydra really only could imagine; she liked to think she would never know it, as Sarah may. But then Hydra had always been a pack-wolf, and always thought ahead; to leave and idle as Sarah did, knowing what she knew, was simply asking for it. If Sarah preferred to starve alone, that was entirely up to her. The Queen hoped death was not for her, she so hoped to be wrong here! For once, she would not mind it. 

The Queen nodded to her companion, smiling thinly but not without the faintest trace of humor there. I hope that you do, she drawled, cryptic enough; either way, haunted or not, she would be certain of Sarah's end or having not come to it. Hydra found that she did not want the other to die in a strange turn of events. To wish the other luck was without point, luck had nothing to do with what surrounded the wilds now. It was less Sarah's exaggeration that had Hydra believing her and more of how she herself looked and smelled. Addled by fever and her infection and soon... consumption, she imagined. Hydra had not the name for rabies, and neither did any wolf who had encountered the scent along with her. She had no way of knowing for certain what it would do, but if Sarah were to find it? She would soon find out. 

May we meet again, Hydra drawled at length, ears forward, and you be in better health. It would be a shame, if not. But all must die; even she herself. Nodding, Hydra turned to continue her investigation of this terrain to see if anything else of use might be found, one ear turned toward Sarah in case she was not leaving as Hydra had expected her to and had more to say.