Even though Ares did not know exactly where the body was, and Cendres and Nazte both did, he assumed the lead as we marched across Winterpaw’s territory. I had tried to keep pace with him, but Nazte had tripped me more than once and, somehow, I’d ended up at the back of the pack. I glared at all three of their backs; I would have folded my arms haughtily, too, but I needed them to balance as we slipped and skidded across the compacted snow. Maybe I should have simply been grateful that I had been included, but the slight in forcing a Young Luna behind a Beta and Gamma was something even I turned my nose up at. One day, I vowed to myself, stomping through a patch of deep, powdery snow that had spilled onto the slick pathway we followed, I would get Nazte back. I did not know when or how – I just promised myself that I would. “Should she be here?” Nazte muttered, too loud for it to have been a coincidence that I’d heard him. “Yes,”
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