Perhaps later she will think back on this moment as being pivotal in her life.
Perhaps she will realize she as given the choice of a virtuous life and one where she waffled on her morals, where she chose the grey in a world of black and white. Perhaps she will realize that she does not have a clean conscience and that she will have to learn to live with the blood on her hands.
Or perhaps she will simply move forward, unfettered by such worldly things.
All she knows is that she doesn’t hesitate to take the deal he offers her, even though his is the hand that ripped her clean apart, that threatened one of her closest friends.
“I won’t let that happen,” she growls between her grizzly teeth, still not comfortable enough to shift into her equine form. But he doesn’t focus on Yadigar and neither does she. Instead she just nods, accepting that his approval of whatever she was to do would be acceptable to him and focuses on his next words.
North.
She thinks back to what Ghaul had said at the beginning—what she had glazed over. They were marching on the north. She frowns a little, sets back, but ultimately knows that there’s only one answer.
“I wouldn’t let him go alone.”
I want to swim until we both begin to feel the weightlessness sink in