Moonspear BWP5—siren

After this which can be read only, or anyone can join!

 

Hydra returned home, no worse for wear though feeling more than a little frustrated for her find. It was not good, and did not bode well for remaining prey. They would need to be careful; this sort of sickness had the reek to it that Hydra knew meant it was best to be avoided. She howled to her pack so that they would know of her findings; any could come for her to explain more, but the message that was carried by the wind was for her subordinates to avoid the sickly creature in the Wilderness that would pose a greater risk than reward for them all. 

The Queen carried the remnants of its scent for any to know for themselves the sensation she had felt in the pit of her belly. 

Others could fell it, if they wanted, but not them. Let them die; Hydra thought of Moonspears survival, but hoped in her heart that the Nightwalkers, too, were wise enough to leave it alone. Perhaps one of them had heard her if they, too, were near; it was not without thought that Hydra had sounded off.

Dragomir had the passing thought that he should return to his persual of his mother's lingering trails on the way back from Bramblepoint, but chose instead to follow the distant raven that was Hydra. His thoughts were swirling in his head faster than he cared to think about them, and through it all, the cutting disappointment of a meal lost. He couldn't ignore that disgusting smell or his Alpha's warning, but tearing himself away from the trail of living prey was akin to physical pain at this point.

He chose to focus on other things, and hastened to catch up with the queen. The faster he went, the more pronounced his limp was, but on home turf, he didn't care about that. Determination snaked its way through him, chasing off the beginnings of the shame that burned him whenever he thought of how his once-smooth gait broke with every step.

Can we talk? called Dragomir when he thought he was in shouting distance, pinning his ears respectfully back and wagging the tip of his tail.

Hydra sniffed at the earth, and then the air, hoping to catch wind of something healthier here; as of yet, there was nothing. It caused a deep scowl to set on her features, and she thought to search for Dirge again to bring to him her recent unsettling find. She had thought she had heard another nearby, and turned to see Dragomir; her expression softened significantly, her upset not being with him but with natures upheaval. 

She nodded to his inquiry, drawling, of course, as she moved towards him; so long as she was around, she wanted to be someone he felt he could speak with. This was his home now, and Hydra hoped for his comfort in every regard. While she was certain the training he endured might cause him some physical pain, she felt he would be stronger for it so long as he heeded his body and did not overexert himself to bring on additional pains. 

These were idle thoughts that rifled through her mind, and she looked him over for any signs of new hurt or turmoil but could find none of the physical variety. Satisfied with that at least, she looks to his face and listens.

If he noticed the scowl on Hydra's face, Dragomir gave no indication as he closed the gap between them. He motioned with a forward jab of his snout that they didn't need to stop to have this conversation—he would follow her up the mountain if that's where she meant to go, limp and pain be damned.

I could smell my mother near here, he said, making a genuine effort to hide the turmoil from his voice at the mention of her. Most likely he failed, and if his voice didn't give him away, then the wrinkling of his muzzle would betray his inner feelings. If only it was so easy to forget her existence and move on like none of it bothered him, but Dragomir had ever suffered from separation anxiety, and that made all of this so much harder for him.

Do you know why she was here? He hoped the answer was something more reasonable than Aurëwen skulking around hoping to catch a glimpse of the children she'd abandoned, otherwise he wasn't sure he could keep his temper in check.

The truth of it was he did well toward hiding the greater turmoil within his voice. Perceptive enough to sense it, and keen enough to know to watch how the body could betray, his effort to conceal all he felt was mostly in vain. It seemed, fortunately, that what was left in him was disdain for her—if there was pain, Hydra could not sense that much at least. Though admittedly, she did not want to see that in him; Hydra often saw only what she looked for in others.

She was here, Hydra confirmed, and her ears twitched. She was doubly glad to see him today now, though he might not like either of the things she shared with him this day. Your mother informed me of her intent to take the Vale before I chased her from here. It is not within my Wilderness, and so I cannot tell you where she has gone but for what she has told me, she shared. If Andraste had wanted to see her children she would have; if her children had wanted to see her, she suspected they would have come to search for her too. 

Hydra continued: there is something else I must tell you. Your mother has informed me that the one who had come to harm you was seen with an older enemy of your fathers. Caiaphas—or Blackhead, I have heard her called. Along with her, several of our pack and I searched for them. They are injured, the two of them; our ally, Vengeance, saw to that, having his own vendetta with one or both I suppose. In any case, she spoke, clinical as ever, I know their scent. Where they went I am not sure, now—I did not want to stray too far from home should they have thought to come here. I would like to teach you how to kill whoever did this to you, Hydra hummed, tilting her head, so that if they ever come near here again, you can protect yourself—and Moonspear. Hydra would naturally aid him, if she could be there—but when he had been attacked long ago, he must have been alone to come to such damage. Should he put himself in that position again, at the very least he would not be defenseless. 

Hydra explored his features with her eyes. She did not know how he would take this, but Hydra would hide nothing from him. She was ever a woman who ran toward, not away.

He didn't need the confirmation. It served only to sour the meagre contents of his stomach as well as his mood to know without a doubt she dared approach his home after willingly abandoning him. He could think only that she meant to dispose of him. His muzzle buckled and his lips contorted into a deep grimace. The way he saw it, she'd simply done exactly what he thought Vercingetorix had done in going to the sea: dumped her unwanted family on someone else's doorstep and flitted away to enjoy her newfound freedom. What she did with that freedom, what Vale she spoke of, he neither knew nor cared.

What Hydra had to say about Blackhead, on the other hand, was a lot more interesting. This part of her news made sense. Vercingetorix had urged them to leave Kaistleoki in search of their mother because Blackhead was lingering nearby, so it only made sense the enemy of old Drageda would follow them this far. He'd built her up in his head to be some massive, slavering beast with glowering eyes, a woman who could singlehandedly take down a pack and frighten his father—she must be something to behold. He hoped he never had to, though if he did, then he hoped he could be the one to avenge the life that might've been his. The life his father had given up in favour of keeping his family safe.

Good, spat Dragomir, who could not bring himself to think of Sanguinus directly, not even to relish the news that he was injured. He couldn't hide the shiver that crawled down his back at the mere mention of his captor, but allowing himself to dwell on the man's appearance, voice, stench or even the cave at Silvertip would only summon terrible flashbacks and memories. He forced them down as best he could. Blackhead stole the life I would have had, my dad always said. I want to learn to fight. I want to be the one who kills them, Dragomir revealed, although the likelihood of him ever having the chance to kill one, let alone both, and succeeding was quite low indeed. Vermin like that survived, somehow, despite all odds being against them.

In a much quieter voice, with a storm brewing in his brown eyes, Dragomir added, if my mother comes back here, please ... do not let her leave. It would be infinitely better to know she was dead like Vercingetorix than to know she was out there, somewhere, living life without the children she'd left behind.

word count: 427

If Hydra had it her way, he would be the one to at the very least be able to do so. Hydra wanted these creatures dead and gone, no matter the means. As he spoke of his own history with Blackhead, Hydra listened. It sounded as though Vercingetorix was always running away; that had been his mistake, she felt. She would teach Dragomir the opposite. You will learn to fight, Hydra promised him that much, should you remain here for us to teach you. And I hope, too, you will be able to come across them to kill them once you learn how, she expressed in earnest, but even more than she hoped this: Though I hope that they die even before then, however they might come to it. They are a risk to all who cannot protect themselves; perhaps they seek another child to bring to harm. I would not have it be you, or your sister, or any other of the cubs here. It was why Hydra was so diligent in her teaching to the four of them, and the rest of her pack. 

It had not been Titmouse; perhaps this was a child of his. I should have killed him then, she thought to herself. 

But Dragomir would learn. Hydra would see to that. 

As he spoke of his mother, Hydra tilted her head. You do not think I should? She inquired of him, sensing the more malevolent thought that lingered within. It would do nothing for you, I do not think, to know her dead. Every day she lives she suffers; she is a wonderful pretender, as many can be, but you and your sister are her first-borns and now, she lives in a lie. Kill her as I have killed my own sister who sought to abandon our own family because the truth did not align with her foolish dreams; remove her power over you. She is family to you no more. She has lost the privilege and the right. But that she breathes has brought us more knowledge than we would have had should she be dead. And knowledge, Dragomir, is power. 

She wondered what he might think of this, and then with a twitch of her muzzle she drawled, trespassing is another matter entirely; I more than welcome her death if her foolishness brings her to become noseblind. And if you wish to kill her, Dragomir, I would not stop you. Think on what I have said, however. Her abandonment speaks only of who she is, and nothing of you. Hydra's tail lashed, and she observed the storm that was coming to pass. Hydra wished to foster that malevolence, and make it take a shape he could utilize—a knife, a sword, or perhaps the accursed lightning-bolt that had come to lash Aurewen that had caused all of this to come to pass.

Dragomir nodded along. It wasn't like he had anywhere else he could go. Vercingetorix had struck a deal with Moonspear's queen for the safety of his cubs, but he wasn't around anymore to honour his part of it, so it was up to Dragomir and Isilmë to make good on their sire's word. It occurred to him only briefly that he could have returned to Diaspora, lived the life he'd been born into, but why burn a bridge to follow one leader he only remembered as strong when there was a strong leader right here in front of him?

Mahler had not come back to the riverlands, either. He hadn't thought much of it, what with the world ending around them, but did Diaspora's gravel-hewn Kapitän truly care about them more than Hydra at this point? If their own mother did not care about them then how could anyone else claim to?

He had nothing but agreement for being trained to fight, but when it came to Aurëwen, there he disagreed. It was the disagreement of a young and unsettled boy who sought somewhere to place the blame for all the misfortune of his life, and had chosen to place it all upon her the day she left and never returned. To see her suffer everything he had was a dark and horrible desire. Willing her dead was a worse one, but Dragomir shook his head all the same. I would rather know she's dead than know that she ... that, he had to fight down his tears and bite back the desire to sob, that she just left us a-and doesn't care.

Hydra was right, of course—the best thing he could do was kill her figuratively, remove her power over him and deny her what she would one day regret and crave to remedy—but his feelings were too strong right now to see the sense in it.

NANOWRIMO: 318

Hydra tilted her head and considered, I suppose there is some peace to be found, in that finality, she drawled with a tilt of head. Hydra, thinking a little longer, found she thought much the same. Better to know ones enemy was dead than to know otherwise. It caused unrest in ones soul, otherwise. Though I tell you this—that she does not care is, I believe, but a lie. It is she who has come with news of your enemies. What I think, she drawled, is that it was convenient for her to release you and your sister so as to achieve her own ends. Someday I think she might beg for your forgiveness, an ear-flick, as she drawled, a fate worse than death for her might be your denying her that. But by the time that came to be, he could be full-grown and wiser having forgotten his own resentment of her in the first place, ready to release it. 

After a beat, Hydra blinked and said, whatever it is you decide, Dragomir, I am with you, she hummed, I do not know all you have went through, and I do not expect or wish for you to tell me unless you desire to. But we are pack. Pack is a different sort of family. It is the sort you choose. I know it was your father who made this decision for you and your sister, and it was the last thing he had ever done, she realized, though that does not mean any less. We are here for you, and with you. Your adversary's are out there; we have told none of your being here. We have asked your mother, too, to share with no one your location; I leave it to you, who you trust with such knowledge, and your sister. 

She went quiet, then, so as to see if he understood her lengthy dialogue. She could see he fought his tears, and Hydra rumbled her advisement, release your emotions today. Forget them tomorrow. Do not give those feelings power over you for more than that. The Queen then regarded him and gestured to his hinds. How do you feel, physically? Arcturus tells me you have been working hard, she drawled, ears cupped toward him. Hydra need not be told to know it; the scent of he and his sweat from his diligent efforts could be noted where he trained. 

He had lost some weight, though... she realized Dragomir likely knew not of where all of their food was kept, quite yet. She would need to show him, though wished there might be more fresher fare for them. Again she thought of that foul smelling moose and wondered what it might mean.

Peace in finality, yes. That was what Dragomir sought. It wasn't good enough for him right now to play pretend like his mother, to act like she was just nonexistent. He had inherited his father's loyalty—a good thing, that, for his mother's was so flimsy she couldn't even attach it to her own bloodline. That made him loyal to his family, as well, and he could not bear to have her be part of it any longer. He could not bear the pain of a connection that was severed without his consent.

Troubling, that.

But deep down inside, Dragomir did acknowledge that Hydra was right. That the worst thing he could do to Aurëwen was turn his back on her when she attempted to rekindle that connection. It occurred to him that that might never happen—that he was such a useless burden that she was glad to be rid of him and would never return—if that was the case, how could he ever remove her power over him, short of seeing her dead? If he had all day to think about it then every hour would be spent upon it until, at last, he would reach the same conclusion that Hydra proposed. But he didn't have all day, and had to put it aside for now.

Sniffing as inconspicuously as he could, Dragomir blinked away the film that hazed his vision and glared over his shoulder at the flatlands. His tail stirred against his hocks, but whatever thoughts bothered him then were put aside when he looked back to the queen. It would be the last time he thought of his mother with any attachment, he vowed ... though that was much easier said than done for a boy who had hidden issues with separation the way that Dragomir did.

I'm trying, he answered, lifting the stiffer of his hind legs and giving it a swivel in its socket. I can move better than I did before. I can climb higher. I don't lose my breath as much, either. Placing it back on the ground, he planed his ears to the sides and admitted, I still suck compared to the others, though. By which he meant her offspring, and the truth was that it was possible he would always suck in comparison to them, because they had lived their whole life on a mountain, and Dragomir had lived the majority of his life nowhere static.

Arcturus said you are the best teacher for offensive fighting, he said, having suddenly remembered the Beta's lesson as well as Hydra's offer to teach him. He said defence might be more important than offence, though.

Hydra regarded him with a nod first as he spoke of trying; it was all they could ask him to do at present, and spoke volumes of his character that he did despite all he had endured. She was pleased to hear of his improvements, though as he spoke against himself Hydra drawled, you have been through much more than them. I can only hope that my children would show the strength and resolve you do in your recovery were they ever to experience what I imagine you did. You do what I have only ever encouraged the rest to: overcome the obstacles life has put within your path. You are not the victim of your circumstance, Dragomir—you show us all you are stronger for it, working as you do. Her voice carried with it the note of approval; Dragomir had all the fortitude of a warrior, she imagined, but again Hydra did not think of the mental wounds he carried within him that might challenge him on that path. 

As he spoke of her brother and what he had said, Hydra looked thoughtful. It was strange to hear herself regarded as such; in her own lifetime, she would have said the same of her mother and her father. They were likely the only wolves who could have bested her, she figured, in ability and skill both. Hydra had learned from the best, and cultivated their craft into something of her own; Arcturus had seen for himself her abilities, and she took his regard and his esteem to heart. As Dragomir went on, Hydra found herself tilting her head. Her eyes flashed with delight as she drawled, He is not wrong; a good defense can thwart ones best offensive maneuvers. Hydra had not needed to defend herselff too heavily against her brother yet, though were she to he would surely learn that she was just as capable there as she was in fighting offensively. For all of her abilities, though, she was humble and rarely spoke of her own merit; it spoke for itself in the arena of battle. 

It was not without fondness that Hydra thought of learning from Amekaze and Charon; there, she too had needed to perfect her defense against their offensive tactics. It was all she could think to do, once, before practicing a more offensive tactic. It was easy to perform the latter against fighters of a different skillset and stature than Amekaze and Charon, but when the field was more level so to speak the defensive route was always wise. Arcturus must be to her what she had been to her mother and father, and she realized that although the words had never been said with frequency... she herself must have been very loved. Arcturus was as dear to her heart as she must have been to her father and her mother both.

Knowing he was learning from one of Moonspear's best defenders, Hydra inquired, What has Arcturus taught you thus far, in regards to defense?

Even if Dragomir was the most modest of creatures alive—and with Vercingetorix for a sire and his father's traits in his blood, that wasn't likely to be the case—he would struggle to hide the flush of pleasure that stole across his face when Hydra complimented his resolve. The smile that crookedly lifted his lips was brief but genuine. How strange to be seen as something other than just a burden, although he couldn't know whether the private thoughts of Moonspear's leadership truly aligned with what they told him. He was not a burden. He was an inspiration, or could be, if he kept on this path.

Even though talking about it made him feel a lot better, Dragomir didn't want to dwell on his injury or his training or how he stacked up against the other cubs, and was thankful that Hydra was happy to talk defence and offence with him. Well, Dragomir mused, chewing the inside of his cheek a moment and letting his gaze wander while he tried to recall what Arcturus had said. He said I should always know my surroundings, like those rocks— Here he indicated a cluster of boulders higher up the slope, —could hide enemies, or I could use them to hide from my enemies. He said there are times you need to stay and protect what you have and times you need to attack. That there's ... What were the exact words Arcturus had used?

... balance! Balance in everything. All of this had made sense to him at the time, but Dragomir sheepishly admitted that, I didn't do very good putting it into practice though. He stole my stick so easily.

Hydra nodded as she listened to him explain to her what it was he had been taught thus far, agreeing; she had taught her brother much herself, and had learned what she had not taught him from others that had here and there instructed him too. The things she did not know yet she readily absorbed, but this was something she had... and something important for Dragomir to know, too. 

He revealed to her that he had been bested by Arcturus, which came as no surprise to Hydra. She was not disappointed to hear it, and she shifted her weight slightly as she expressed, you are only just learning how to. Arcturus has needed to put such things into practice quite frequently to know the way in which to take what you defend. She was certain he understood this, but felt it bore reiterating; there was no shame in being bested so long as he did not take such things to heart and learned from them. 

Hydra turned some, so that she was not facing Dragomir head-on when she spoke next: Just as your more distant surroundings can assist you, so can your more immediate ones. Take these smaller stones, for instance, she began, paw hovering above that which she spoke of. With a deft swipe, Hydra sent them flinging sharply upward; the way in which they sailed was of the height where any adult wolf's face might stand. She had taken care not to swipe them near the inky boy so that he could best see what she was doing. The distraction can give you brief reprieve to reset, and also force the other to react in a way that could be to your favor. Such a small stone could do plenty of damage if it struck an eye, and most acted in ways that considered this.

Hydra had a good point. It made him feel a little better to have it reinforced that Arcturus was simply much more experienced than he, though his insidious doubts remained. That part of him that believed he was worthless was much too difficult to shake off. So many things contributed to it, many of them obvious, some of them not so much. Given the course of his life thus far, it was no wonder the boy's confidence was paper thin and small failures felt like massive disappointments to him.

They also served to drive him, for Dragomir's low self esteem made him believe that he had a lot to prove; this alone was why he worked as hard as he did at the tasks laid before him. Had he more confidence and more self worth, perhaps he would not have to push himself so hard or get down on himself so much for small things, like Arcturus taking a stick from him.

Dragomir lowered his head to study the pebbles that Hydra indicated, and then instinctively flinched back when her paw lashed out, sending them flying in an upward arc. It didn't take a lot of brain power to realize the benefit of such a tactic; what wolf wouldn't draw back to avoid the debris? Even with little experience in tactics, Dragomir could envision how that would create an opening. Like this? he asked, swinging his own paw across the dirt.

His pebbles only skipped lamely along the ground—his angle had been all wrong to scoop them up like Hydra had—but at least he sent them somewhere, right? It was a start.

Hydra observed him, and when he made his own attempt the Ostrega watched the way in which they moved. Her tail swayed to see his attempt, no matter how poor it was... he would learn. One would think such a thing to be easy, but Hydra knew it was not; it took some time for her to master it. It was more difficult, still, when actually in the throes of battle. More like this, she drawled, moving to demonstrate—more slowly, this time. 

The woman did not swipe at the rocks there before she drew her paw alongside them, showing him the way in which her paw seemed to cup just so (similar to the way in which ones paw might act when pawing their fellow) before them, and the angle in which it faced. And then, she withdrew it; she allowed him to see where her foreleg was above the earth (not too high) before she struck. 

Again the things were sent flying just as they had been before. She revealed, it is a quick strike; the angle where you come into contact with it counts. Sending them low, though, is wise to know too... with the right amount of pressure. It all depends upon where your opponent is. Hydra was matter-of-fact and as succinct as possible in her delivery, not wanting to add unimportant drivel that might serve to distract him from what she hoped he would take away.

He lowered his head to watch Hydra's slower demonstration, taking note of the way her toes curled and the angle of her foot as she made her approach. He observed how far she drew it back and the quick method she used to strike them into the air. The individual steps seemed easy to him, but was that not always the case? Each step on its own was simple but putting them together in a concerted, smooth manner was always the trickiest part.

Dragomir found another cluster of pebbles to try again with, and again he got the scooping motion and the angle wrong, sending the pebbles more horizontal than vertical. Flattening his ears, the boy glowered at the rocks, but was quick to promise, I'll keep practicing until I get it. Without any real fighting experience of his own, putting him rather behind other wolves his age in that department, Dragomir would need to resort to such tactics in the future as he learned. Anything to get the upper edge.

Is there anything else you can do with your surroundings? he wondered, turning captivated eyes to Hydra for further instruction.

She watched as he worked again at it, only for the result of it to be as successful as the first. He could see for himself that while the effort looked minimal, it was not; there was more to it than the mere flicking of ones wrist, though it looked that way. Hydra trusted that he would, and so did not say more on the matter. As for his second question, nodded. Be aware of them. Use what you can. Drive your opponent, do not let them drive you, she drawled, which was easier said than done. But it was something her mother had always taught her to do. Guide the fight. If you observe a root, for example, you could feasibly push your opponent in that direction; if you are lucky, the ground can aid you in causing their misstep where your teeth might not have been able to, she advised. 

There was much for her to teach, and while there was much to say there was also much to show. And show him he would. For now, though, to train his endurance and stamina. Perhaps you can guide your enemy up and up and up some more, she drawled, glancing toward the upper reaches of Moonspear. She did not mean here, on their mountain, but in general, those not used to high altitudes who do too much too soon will find it is difficult to breathe. The air changes, becomes thinner, Hydra educated, her gaze falling back to him. Hydra had acclimated to such things, though Dragomir would likely need time himself to do so in full. We can begin taking walks when you feel ready to do so at the higher altitudes, and then runs. Best not to overexert onesself too soon, she instructed. 

Wondering if he felt rested enough, Hydra gestured toward where she had been climbing some time ago. I was heading that way myself, if you would like to join me, she offered then, wondering if he might feel ready now. She left the choice to him, though would think no less of him if he was not yet ready then and there.

He was a rapt listener, absorbing everything he could, if only so he might have an advantage next time against Arcturus. The Beta was clever, more clever than he, and Dragomir would need every trick in the book to gain an upper edge against him. To say nothing of Hydra—he didn't think he would ever best her in a spar.

He was glad she mentioned the thinner air higher on the mountain; it wasn't something he'd known about, and thus far, hadn't any cause to learn it the hard way. In order to take advantage of Hydra's advice, Dragomir would need to be able to breathe the air up there without faltering, a fact the Alpha confirmed moments later. Yeah, that sounds good, he agreed, although it was accompanied by a nervous flitting in his breast. What if he wasn't able to breathe the air?

Too late to worry about all that, he thought; she was offering to take him now. Oh, uh, okay, he said, falling into step just a little behind her shoulder. Truth be told, Dragomir wasn't even sure he was physically fit enough to get that high, but he didn't want to seem weak by declining.

Hydra imagined that to start with, it would be difficult. But from what she could see now, he had caught his breath and was able to conversate; it meant that he could exert himself, though Hydra would not push him beyond his limits. An ear flicked as he agreed to accompany her, and she drawled, we will not be going all the way up now; just a little ways. You must tell me when you feel the difference as soon as you do, and we will turn back, she hummed. It was no weakness to be impacted by nature; she understood time was needed here. But Hydra wanted to be with him the first time to ensure she could assist where needed.

Hydra did not want him to push past his limits, and felt her accompaniment would make him feel a little better. Though she had asked him to tell her, her sharp ear would listen for any irregularities in his breathing or step. As he fell into step just behind her shoulder, Hydra began to move—the pace she set was a slow one. If you do not know your limits, your body will not be able to hide it for long; I will likely hear it, she drawled, hoping this might be a comfort. The moment his breathing sounded hitched or irregular, Hydra would turn guide them back, so long as he did not mask it. I think you will feel it, though. Trust your instinct, she informed. They had yet to go up yet; Hydra navigated them toward a gentler incline, listening for any questions as they went.

As if, Hydra. Dragomir wanted more than anything to prove that he was capable and strong; he would push himself to his limits and then surpass them if he could, and all of it would be to his detriment. So in spite of nodding his agreement, the boy didn't actually intend to say anything until it got so hard he couldn't take it anymore. He was bound and determined to impress her.

Little did he know that pushing past his limits was not impressive; it was stupid.

Once they did swing onto the upward path, Dragomir padded along and did his very best to not think about his breathing. Hydra's thoughts were correct, however. The minute the air began to thin and each breath became less effective, his rate of breathing increased without him realizing. He could feel the strain on his body and how it felt like he needed more and more air to keep his breathing steady. He wasn't aware that all the signs were already visible; he thought he was doing a great job of masking it.

As they moved in silence together, Hydra listened. There was, for a time, nothing but the sounds of their quiet footfalls and the moaning wind. But that did not last for very long; one backturned ear caught the beginnings of his labored breathing, which to start with would not incapacitate him. To continue for much longer though certainly would; having been there herself, she (figured she) knew what would likely occur next: his vision would soon begin to spot and his movements clumsier for it. From there it would be a quick downward spiral, and though the crueler part of Hydra wanted him to understand the consequence of not respecting his limits and what reckless behavior could yield by having him experience it firsthand, today was not the day for such a lesson. 

So mere moments after her observation of it, Hydra chuffed to him to alert him of the change in their trajectory before she moved to guide them back. They had not made it too terribly far, but Hydra had not suspected that they would today. In comparison to him, her own breathing was steady, slow—but she had not arrived to this point in a day. Hydra said nothing, yet; uncertain as to how the altitude may have effected his mind as it had his breathing, she would wait to do so until he caught his breath. She would wait until she saw he understood they would be turning back before moving, and she would not push their pace downward any (not wanting to exert him further than she had); it would be entirely counterproductive, she knew, to rush anything. Her tail was lax and swayed behind her to relay her mood, which had not shifted; there was no trace of disappointment upon her, and only when she saw that he had understood they would be heading back would Hydra begin her descent, listening to his breathing all the while so as to know where he was in his recovery.

As it turns out, Dragomir sucks at hiding anything. Hydra caught on to him quickly. He knew it the moment she directed them back down the mountain, to a point where breathing was just beginning to get harder for him. By the time they got there, he was puffing just to keep up and no longer trying to hide it. His tail drooped low as he began to catch his breath—it felt like failure to him.

Even if Hydra wasn't disappointed, Dragomir was. He believed himself to be better than this, and foolishly underestimated the impact that altitude could have. I'm sorry, he murmured when his respiration returned to an even rate.

Can probably fade here / soon!

It was less that and more of Hydra's sharp attention; any other might not have cared to listen and be as in tune to every-little-thing than Hydra herself ever was. And she cared for Dragomir a great deal; she did not want to see him come to harm, even if it was because of his own recklessness alongside her. She was no healer; Hydra did not know where Lyra was this second, either, for her to assist him in respirating normally prior to their descent. It was but a taste of what the feeling was, this day; in time there would be more. 

Her gaze shifted to him as he spoke his apology, and Hydra hummed: I forgive you, so long as you do not do so again, she expressed, gentle enough in her admonishment; that was what sorry meant, after all, and she wanted it to be clear. Hydra did not want him to hurt himself; now, she hoped that he might be more careful. To soothe, she drawled, It is easy to think it is not a difficult thing to accomplish, given that there was no line that said, "here is where things will get difficult to breathe... and here is where pressure will increase", but to do too much, too soon, you can hurt yourself. She gazed to him to check and see that he understood.

So as to blow off some steam, Hydra moved to nip his shoulders playfully (with no real aim or punch behind the gesture that was entirely harmless). It seemed he had caught his breath, and Hydra quipped, catch me, if you can. Her bright eyes flashed as she drove forward, hoping to entice him in a bout of play... brief and to build more endurance. 

Okay sounds goooood!! Maybe this could be a fader?! Or you can fade with your post! <3