Moonspear I wear my long black dress, and a veil of disaster

Hydra paused upon hearing her name, though even that was no true sign that she had been who was called; she often did the same when either of her sisters names were called, given they were much the same and the mistake was made more often than not. It was an easy one to make, even for wolves who knew them best; the differences between them were so terribly subtle there seemed to be none at all. Even their parents, up until the very end, could not discern one from the other by appearance alone. 

The Ostrega's head followed the direction her ear had rotated toward upon Dragomir calling out to her, and soon her gaze latched onto his figure. From here only the subtle heave of his flanks foretold of his need for breath, and so she mutely let him catch it as she took in his words. Multiple wolves at Bramblepoint; this was news, indeed. Her mood at the news was clear as her features darkened, though she was not irate with him. Food was too scarce for this number of wolves to be congregating in her Wilderness. 

She suspected he had not met them yet, since he had not said as much. Hydra turned, descending to meet him. Hydra would have invited him to join her on her climb, but she knew he would need to get used to the thinner air. Exertion and that both would likely double the challenges he faced, and though the progress he made was clear (he had been working hard, Hydra knew and could also see) the higher reaches were not something she would rush him to arrive to. 

Stopping before him, she regarded him with a full, sweeping wave of her tail—though the news he had shared was not at all what she wished to hear, she was glad to see him—before she drawled, we will have to see the manner of wolves they are. Best to know ones enemy, if it is at all possible to do so, before striking. They will come to find they are unwelcome here, her ear twitched and her muzzle wrinkled. Winter comes; food is scarce enough. We need no more competitors, she rumbled darkly. More than that, she was tired of trespassers; the more wolves that loitered, the more likely this was to occur, and so she finished with, nor any more seeking to steal what is ours. Hydra's muzzle wrinkled, her contempt for such a manner of wolf quite clear. She was quiet then, leaving room for his rejoinder if there was any.

She had her children to think of, Dragomir among them as he was a cub of Moonspear—he was still recovering, and to do so in full he would need all the nourishment he could get. And her four were growing bigger themselves; they needed the very same. Many saw children as a point of weakness, but it made Hydra all the more fierce and her convictions that much more firm. And Hydra would kill for them, each and every one, if it meant their survival. She looked at Dragomir now, thinking all of this, and despite the ruthless thoughts that ran rampant within her mind, her gaze had become softer. She was loyal to her own, and Dragomir had become that quicker than most, likely due to his youth and her own maternal instinct... though helped, surely, by his own devotion to learn and work hard. 

Have you trained more with Arcturus? She inquired after a beat, curious as to his latest progress in the regard of defending.