Moonspear a marked deck

The proper boxes were check, and thus, Alya checked her desire to rend flesh from bone and retreated several steps, ceding the ground she'd taken from him once more and — with increased distance — allowing him room and ample permission to stand.

"What are you doing?" she asked, shaking off some of the aura of aggression as she decided she would not be attacking at this time. He had done nothing to offend her, thus far, and her mission this day was to determine his worth to the pack. Hydra had seen something in him, and it was now Alya's turn to be sure that it had not been sentiment.

The trouble, it seemed, was that Alya had grown rather sentimental herself. He was a boy, and she had seen so much death and devastation, lately. Perhaps she desired to see something bloom, for a change.