Haunted Wood Grim, grinning ghosts.

Hydra was thankful for that. And relieved, too, to hear that Wraen had not implied or said as much. It removed the thought from her mind, albeit not in its entirety. Hydra had not spared Wraen much thought, and was all too ready to shift the subject to anything else. I understand, she answered with a nod. Hydra had nothing ill to say of Wraen, namely not knowing all the poison Wraen breathed on her own name to any with an ear. If she were aware, though, it would likely change little. Hydra felt the way wolves spoke of others was often more an indication of their own character and faults than those that they spoke of. In any case, Hydra did not elaborate any further to Towhee (though would have, if asked)—it did not feel right to speak further on something likely so trivial. Not after the loss of Revui. 

Relieved further for the distraction of something fresh and new from the recent things that had struck her mind and that she had endured, Hydra was an all too eager to hear the question at hand. I am all ears, she answered, stepping nearer to her with a sway of her plume.