Moonspear And Smitten the Nightingale had Become.

Hydra, as he processed it all, observed him; she did not know what his thoughts were, and that he did not speak them inspired the thought that perhaps that was the extent of his interest. She moved toward one of the spots Zafina had pissed upon and with a cursory sniff, moved to roll into it and overwhelm the scent with the strength of her own. Not at all interested in the woman so much as being a part of their soil, Hydra's scent glands spread her own strong scent. 

Finished with this spot, Hydra looked to him. If you have questions, now would be the time to ask, Hydra prompted, patient today. Her education on this topic had come late, and it had not been to her benefit—though she knew ultimately, she had nothing at all to worry about. Better to teach him now how these things worked, if he was at all interested in knowing.