Redhawk Caldera to autumn and i fall all over her

the caldera was empty. truthfully, terance didn't really care. his uncle had died and his cousin was a big fat rock eater, so if all of these wolves had died then-- well, so be it. was that harsh? maybe, but terance decided long ago he didn't care much for the redhawk wolves, so what happened to them mattered little to him. besides, they'd been crude to maia-- who deserved nothing but love and sunshine. the caldera wolves could eat shit. 

he hadn't intended on coming here, but he was out hunting and he'd actually picked up on the lack of redhawk smelling scents in the area-- so he had to check it out. sure enough, place was deserted, leaving terance to wonder exactly what had happened. he stood in the territory, nose to the ground, before raising his head and sniffing at the wind. nope, no answers there, maybe it was time to head back.

Now and then, Hydra would scope out the woods she and Towhee consistently held their rendezvous at in the past. Not seeing any trace of her at any point had grown slightly worrisome, and Hydra sought to investigate this at long last. Hydra moved toward the Caldera and had discovered much the same thing as Terance—there were no wolves here at all. 

Hydra licked her chops. 

Blackfeather had won, then. 

She did not think Towhee to be dead, and she had not imagined her to be the sort to give up, but with everyone gone what else was there to think or believe? She withheld a disappointed sigh and moved to depart. There was a dark figure in the distance, which gave the Ostrega pause. Whoever it was was likely here for the same reason as she. Hydra, not feeling particularly affable, prepared to head back home and inform her parents of her findings.

the scent of wolf hit her, but it was a scent all too familiar. and not just in that it was moonspear.

it was hydra.

the beta turned quickly, watching as she did the same thing. had she seen him, noticed him? ignored him? his voice caught in his throat and he suppressed a loud whine that threatened to sound. he was hesitating, maybe too long-- she didn't want to see him, did she? but ... what if she did? he wanted to know, how was she? how was moonspear? how was lyra? 

"hy-- hydra!" terance called, quiet and unsure at first but he had quickly corrected himself and called louder out to her. then he stood, paw raised as it begged to bring him closure, posture low. and though he was anxious, positive it wouldn't go well, his tail waved.

He had been downwind of her, and though she had seen him she had not smelled him to know who this stranger was. 

There was no mistaking the voice, though. Hydra reacted swiftly once she heard it, turning rapidly to face him and pose a savage picture as her hackles lifted. Her father had informed her of the fight between himself and Terance's sister, who had expressed interest in laying claim to the Glen that lay right outside their doorstep. Hydra hoped they would. It would be a mistake Hydra would ensure, personally, each wolf would come to regret. It was their choice to leave Moonspear and the wealth of food the mountain and the glen afforded them. 

Hydra was not at all surprised to hear that one of them came sniveling for morsels like some starved coyote. The only bone Hydra would ever give them was their own.

Her blue eyes were sharp upon him. He did not appear interested in a physical altercation, but seemed... was his tail waving? Hydra was far from convinced. She looked over his frame; he didn't look at all hungry. And so, it was primarily greed that brought Wraen to them. She realized that Rannoch could have sent Terance because he believed that if any wolf had a chance at speaking with her without being met with outright violence, it was Terance, because somewhere in her heart she still cared for him—

Wrong.

Terance had taken her cares with him. It had taken some time for the entirety of them to find him where he resided, but as she looked to him now, she felt nothing. She was not even angry anymore. She had hurt for so long over his choice, and she was relieved to feel... nothing. 

Was that entirely true, though? Would she not outright attack him, if it were?

Your sister came to the Glen, expressing interest in claiming it as your packs new hunting grounds, she informed him stonily, is that so? She inquired with a flick of her ears. She had thought to be rid of each of them once and for all the day they had abandoned those that had supported them, cared for them, saved some—how she hated to be wrong.

the glen. terance blinked, a little frustrated now. not at hydra, of course, who had done nothing wrong. she was speaking all business-like, which was probably how wolves who weren't friends treated one another. did it hurt? yes, but it was his own fault. 

"that would be counterintuitive, we'd never be able to transport food back from that kind of distance," he said, ears cupping forwards, "wraen was out of line, rannoch and i both agree that firefly glen is not, and never was intended, to be our claimed hunting grounds." and then, with a quick dip of his nose terance added, "i'm sorry she did that." panther park, however, they rightfully claimed. but hydra, he doubted, would ever come that far.

Hydra agreed with him; it would be. It would make each of them prime targets for attacking, too, once they were exhausted from the hunt—whether they failed, or succeeded. And then, once the wolves of Moonspear had finished with those of Sunspire and devoured their kill, if there was ever any question as to who lay claim to the glen and its hunting grounds, the answer would then become resoundingly clear. She would say, 'I did not think your sister was not sound of mind', but that would be a lie, as Wraen had decided to follow Liffey and leave without a single word; it was due to this that Wraen's malevolent thoughts of Hydra would come to fruition if ever the she-wolf thought to behave as she had toward her father to her. 

His words were met with the slow lick of her chops, and without any maliciousness in her voice, she spoke again. It is Liffey who leads, she exerted, and so, what you and Rannoch have discussed carries very little weight. Was she privy to this discussion? She inquired with a tilt of her head, interested in this and this alone. After all, all of Rannoch's knowledge, self-gained and self-learned, had disappeared to nothing once his wife whispered misplaced and unfounded mistrust, which he wholeheartedly, readily believed. Against all fact, even those he had blatantly seen, against all reason, even if the reason was for his own benefit, his decisions were never entirely his own. He was a man who loved his leash, and she could not find it in her to hold it against him any longer. Hydra knew him for who he truly was, now—she was now largely angry that she had misjudged him so. That she had believed him to be a better man than he was.

But it was good to know this, else she would not have thought to ask. Fool me once, shame on you—it won't happen twice.

his brow furrowed, confused as to why hydra was talking about liffey. maybe he shouldn't have been, considering how obsessed with hating liffey he always thought the cerberus was. again, perhaps that wasn't so true, but terance had never understood why they looked down upon her. "it is wrean who's at wrong," he reiterated, "liffey had nothing to do with it." would that get this point across? he almost added that liffey was pregnant, but was positive that wouldn't really change hydra's opinion.

and though terance would never consider moonspear an enemy, perhaps it was not in their best interest to let slip they had pregnant females-- and pups now-- inside their borders. though, truthfully, terance probably smelled heavily of seabreeze. 

"we're all in agreement, we have no place at the glen," he added for clarification. though, truthfully, he wasn't positive liffey agreed. it was liffey, after all, who promoted wraen.

He spoke again, and Hydra was given pause for a moment as she heard what he said. You misunderstand me— Hydra responded cooly, her ears pricked forward. She did not think Liffey to be involved in Wraen's actions at all; in fact, she had not considered it up until now. But Hydra was finished with them, all of them, when they had turned their backs and left. Terance quickly seemed to grasp her question, although belatedly, and answered precisely what she had meant. 

It is her word that will be followed, always, Terance. Her word that will always be believed and acted upon. That is what I meant, she explained, her blue eyes holding fast to his green ones. I do not mean it in a cruel way. I have seen it, and I imagine by now you may have seen it, too, it was an assumption, but one she felt safe in making. Hydra held no hate in her heart for Liffey any longer. There was even a part of her that held some sort of respect for her—surely Liffey knew her rule was absolute. That she could do no wrong, and make no ill judgments. The she-wolf was, undoubtedly, a lethal snake in a grass. How she had a wolf so entirely wrapped around her fingers was something Hydra, at this point, could admire.

Hydra knew how to kill a snake, though. And she did not feel threatened, either. If there was one thing that the snake in the grass feared, it was she and her sisters. If Liffey sought to make an enemy out of them now, Hydra would introduce her to what feeling fear truly felt like. The Ostrega had new siblings to protect, and she would kill another without batting a lash if they acted on the threat that would jeopardize their wellbeing. 

And, if Terance was wrong, he would find he had made an error in his judgment of believing he had no place in that glen; his grave was marked and prepared. Do not come to the Glen for some time, she spoke, her voice calm. As she paused, there was a flicker of feeling revealed in her blue eye,  though it was gone as quick as it had come. It would be perceived as nothing but wolves coming to make good on your sister's words. She could convince her father of the contrary, but truth be told, Hydra did not entirely trust Terance. The last time she had done that, he had decided to rip the stable ground from out beneath her and did not care for the wounds she had sustained in the fall. 

And that, she could never forget.

briefly, terance thought back to the time redshank threatened all of their lives. literally and verbally, maybe, but of course he was not a really threat. he was stupid and clumsy. but he thought to how liffey treated it, and how angry terance had been to have had his expertise questioned. he was in charge of keeping the pack safe, and despite his rank below liffey's, he still firmly believed she was out of place stopping them from teaching redshank a lesson. and titmouse... hm. terance merely nodded. "i have," he responded. he wanted to tell her-- she'd have been so proud to hear how he had planned on handling the menace. but this version of hy&ter just wasn't the same. the sequel, you could say, just wasn't as good.

"i'll let everyone know," he replied, taking in a soft breath-- his wolves knew better than that, it was only wraen who dared to be so careless, but he wasn't making excuses to hydra-- "we'll stay out of your fur." 

quietly, muscles shifting as he stood, terance added, "thank you, hydra."

She was startled to hear him admit it, though it did not show. Moonspear may have been intolerant toward those that transgressed against them, but their rulings were never unfair or without reason. Even Hydra, who was not at all gunshy, considered all of her subordinates in her dealings. She could have killed Gannet and Liffey's brother more than once, but she never did, and she did that because she respected their belief, even though it was wrong. 

Even though he had run away... 

He, Hydra would always hate. Murderer. If not by his fang, then by his complicit silence as he watched her fall, as he did nothing but run—

 Hydra did respect their opinions, even though it defied the facts. Respected it enough to hold tight to the rope that controlled the guillotine that was her death grip. Now, all that would keep that bastard alive was his own brother. She knew how he felt, and cared enough for him to not actively seek out her sister's reaper.

If he lurked near her home, however...

His response to her revealed he took her warning seriously, though she would come to find out if this were truly so in the future, she imagined. She did not respond to his words, simply nodded and watched him. Moonspear had never sought to make an enemy of whatever scrap of land Rannoch and his found themselves at. Once they had left, Moonspear wanted to forget them. 

Forgive them, though? Unlikely.

silence dragged on. terance silently prayed to every god his mother had ever taught him of-- please, speak to me. but nothing, terance got nothing. he waited, dreading the moment he'd have to tear himself from her for the second time. what did he say? did he say something? should he just leave? what did he have to say? nothing she wanted to hear-- he was positive she didn't want an update on his life, even though he desperately wanted one on hers.

how was dirge? he wanted to ask. did amekaze have another litter? what about the triplets-- they were of age, weren't they? did korei ever return? but terance knew he couldn't ask. it showed, too. where terance was good at hiding his emotions, he was paper-thin before hydra-- she could see through him instantly. 

instead, all facade of professionalism finally worn away, terance asked dumbly, "do you want me to leave?"

He fell apart before her eyes. 

Hydra did not so much as recoil; she took it in. He had seen her in such a way. He had turned his back on her then. There was no satisfaction to be felt as she witnessed it—he had decided this. He would suffer this pain, confide in Rannoch, and forget it once she was out of sight and (she believed) out of mind. For all of his hurt, Hydra witnessed no regret. 

She could not find in herself the desire to ask about his new life. Hydra, too, wanted to forget. Hydra had managed to forget his face, his features; once she had memorized the space between his eyes, and the length of his muzzle. She would have known his profile anywhere. Hydra had known his broadness, his stature, his frame. Today, as she had seen him, she did not. She had forgotten those things that were once so important for her to know—

but she had remembered his voice. Maybe it had been beginning to fade from her memory, but she recognized it as he had called her name, knew it still. 

Do you want me to leave? He asked. Hydra stared at him for a long moment. She had not wanted that, never wanted that—but he had. Hydra took several steps toward him. Hydra remembered the hurt he had caused her, felt it here and now, but she did not show it. He could never see it again. She smelled the fragrance of another upon him, a distinct and cloying sort of scent, and she blinked. Terance... humor me for a moment, will you? I want you to hear me. It was not truly a question, but she waited for a beat before continuing. So much time has passed. I have had time to think, time to clear my head. And I want you to know, I do not hate Rannoch, not now that I understand him. He is a man without sight, and his wife is the rest of his senses. He needs her. Her mind is his mind, she expressed, and so, of course, he would believe her as she spoke against my sisters and I. For so long I could not understand. I trusted him, I liked him... I thought he was a bit soft, but I respected him—he worked hard, she went on. But, well, as I reflected, I remembered something he said: He didn't know what happened that made Liffey ever feel that way, that she could not forget. Because that was the puzzle piece that put the picture together. And I understood then. What Liffey believes will supersede what he can see with his own two eyes. Which is what I mean, when I say he is without sight, Hydra paused, and said with a sigh: How can I hate a man who cannot trust what he has seen for himself? Who somehow cannot trust what he knows? I can only pity him, she admitted. 

Hydra continued. But you are not blind, Terance, her voice was even. You know how I felt. You knew better than anyone. I told you everything. I understood you wanted to start over, Hydra expressed, lest he think she had expected him to stay with her, which she truly had wished but, more than that, wanted him to find some fraction of happiness for himself... just not the way he had determined to do so. Not in a way that was a blatant slap to her face. But you did it with a woman who besmirched my name to a wolf I had imagined was my friend, and you followed him, too, even after knowing all that transpired. Hydra's voice did not rise in volume as she spoke. 

She was quiet to let him process this. To understand where it was she was going. If the roles were reversed, I would never have done as you did, Terance, she pressed. Not simply because it could happen to me, when I trusted him—no, but because I cared about you, respected you, knew you. I used to be able to just take you at your word, and I would have. She licked her chops and stared long and hard at him, drawing in a deep breath. Truly, if Terance had told her about Towhee, Hydra would have ended that relationship because Terance had earned more than simply her benefit of the doubt. Terance, though, simply did what was convenient to him in the end. So she was lucky she had never known, lest she would have ended a relationship with a wolf who (she believed) truly did care for her. 

You were sound of sight, smell, and mind when you made your decision to follow them. You mattered to me, once, more than anything, and you still followed them— she shook her head. Even Gannet chose to stay, Terance, Gannet, who had every reason to mistrust she and her sisters (though their attack had at the time truly been justifiable), had stayed. Even when the Caldera had come to escort him home if he wished, he stayed. She somehow remained composed, throughout all of this. She needed him to know that she had meant what they said during their last conversation, now more than ever. 

He had betrayed her by running with wolves who he knew had thrown baseless things about her and her sisters, wolves he claimed he loved. 

He could have his happy new life—but he could never have her. 

So yes, Terance. I want you to leave. Hydra was aware that he would never seek to right his wrongs. That he would be content to stay where he was. And long ago, Hydra had accepted that. It was what made her voice steel as she spoke the words, it was what made her appear so unflinching before him now as she stood, resolute, by her words. She was not so weak-willed as to seek a relationship with the man who had betrayed her. Because he had made his own decision then. She still knew him. He was stubborn. She believed even now, he would never admit he did the wrong thing by her. And even if he did, he would never do anything about it. She would certainly be more inclined to believe he gave some semblance of a care for her if he had, but what would he do that for now, if he hadn't then? 

All his words had become to her now were wind.

for as long as hydra spoke, terance let her-- because he owed her at least that... right? his demeanor at first withered and withdrew, her words each a dagger to his heart, which was breaking so easily these days. but at a point in her monologue, in this soap box speech, terance realized quite abruptly exactly what her words meant. whether or not she meant to be so ominous and alluding was beyond terance, but he wasn't without a brain, and he could read between the lines. 

maybe she couldn't bring herself to hate rannoch, but she hated him. hydra hated terance.

his gaze, so previously glassy and pained, hardened into an unmoving, stiff, emotionless stare. she hated him, and it was no longer some petty game that terance could pretend to play along with-- it was much more than that, and terance was suddenly tired of playing-- of playing the sad, broken traitor. because he wasn't a traitor. lyra was manipulative and led him on by his nose, only to drop him off when he wasn't useful to her. did she care for him, most certainly, but that's not to say she wasn't insensitive about how everyone knew that he felt about her. hydra knew this, surely, terance knew how close they were. so why did she pretend like this was solely a decision based off of her and rannoch? like all he was doing was picking friends? he didn't do this to be cruel-- he did it to stay afloat. because every day within the borders of moonspear, with lyra so close but so far from reach, crushed him. 

she knew this. terance knew she knew this.

"you're being selfish, hydra," terance said, once hydra had finished speaking. his gaze angled forwards and his ears slicked back. and she was. of course, terance knew she was too stubborn (just as he was) to see this, so he wasn't going to push it. 

unless hydra lunged forward and tore his throat out or something wild like that, terance was just going to accept this defeat. she hated him, officially. this was closure, something terance had only dreamt of-- because before today there was always a sliver of hope that the two would mature and grow back together. and so closure meant he could leave in one piece. "my wolves will not bother the glen," he said in final confirmation and, as she commanded, terance turned and left.

Perhaps to destroy confirmation of this thought was her sharp interjection. Terance, I understood your leaving, She expressed, not understanding how he did not grasp what her grievance with him was. I will never understand you following wolves who lied about me. Lied about my sisters. Did he not get that? Had she thought more of him than she was? 

She stared at him, bewildered. How many packs are in these wilds where you could have had your new beginning? With wolves that did not know my face, or my sisters names? I traveled to the Coast, and I discovered three. Effortless finds, she narrowed her eyes. And how could he not perceive it as she did? How could he not see why or how she felt this way? Yet knowing what you knew, you decided to follow him. His decision was based on a fucking lie about my sisters and I. Your origin story has our name written within it, Hydra breathed. Your new beginning being with Rannoch and Liffey is more of the same. My sisters and I are out of sight, but surely not out of mind— she breathed, would we ever be welcome near your pack? No—and for what? What have we done? She demanded. We have saved Rannoch; we have protected our own; we prepared to fight in a war to end the malicious acts of Blackfeather Woods; we never hurt Liffey. We always protected our own, be it from a cougar or a fucking bear, Terance. You knew that. Not that she had interest in going there at all, but surely, he could understand the point. 

His fresh start was not so fresh after all, but rotten.

Hydra, Alya, and Lyra were Sunspire's nightmare creatures; fearsome bedtime stories to inspire obedience. Her eyes blazed. You went to the one place where there could be no real new start, she breathed. Perhaps there will be new generations, and you will find someone new to love, but we are there. We are your cause for formation, after all, she exhaled. Point blank, she had been told this; Terance had heard it for himself, she was certain, too. And that is why I cannot bear to look at you any more, Terance. Because that place is not a new start, she shook her head, it's a new residence with the same faces and same names. We are your ghosts, her eyes flashed. 

Her words were likely falling on deaf ears, but she had to try to make him understand—

Why, though? Why did she waste her breath? Her time? 

There was a fresh hurt that had overtaken her, and this time he would not see it. You can stay. Take in the view of Blackfeather Woods victory. There could be no other reason for the Caldera having left. Protect Rannoch; I imagine his enemy will be keen to see him again, now that he does not have to worry about our interference, she advised, even as she turned on her heel, her voice once again indifferent as she drawled over her shoulder. Rannoch would always be an easy target, ignorantly trusting wolf that he was. 

Hydra wished no ill upon them at all anymore (unless, of course, they did come to their neck of the woods). But she would not weep if it struck them. She imagined, too, her words might incite him to movement; she had provided him with good intelligence, a thing intentionally done. 

Though she doubted Rannoch would ever acknowledge she and her family as anything less than a villainous lot; it would ruin his packs, whatever it was called, noble reason for founding, and they had gone there to avoid the shadow they had cast—

as Hydra strode away, she felt confident that they never would.

terance had no more comments to make. just as her words fell on deaf ears, his did as well. both wolves were too stubborn to truly see one another side, despite the fact that they both tried-- maybe tried. but he stood and stared with a blank expression as she spoke, his only break in expression when she threatened rannoch through blackfeather, his brows turning inwards briefly. 

then, as she asked, terance left. he had nothing more to say, as it was not worth his energy to fight, and hydra herself was headed home as well.

and so, even with the time they'd had to heal, it seemed hydra and terance were still not ready to move on and let bygones be bygones. but should they, anyway?