Moonspear BWP5—siren

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.