But this is not justice
#16
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Her long legs worked hard to keep up with those on horseback, hoping she would not have to shift to buy more speed but determined to stick close to her leader and familiar faces from the Court. She had no experience with war, and was hoping to be able to simply follow instructions as far as possible. A leather belt filled with various sharp, small objects - knives, darts, shards - was the only burden, each one sheathed to protect it from accidental cutting - or glinting to reveal her position, although of course her almost pure white fur would do that well enough without help. As they linked position with the strangers from the Dream pack, Caspa saw various numbers coming into view in the surrounding mist and trees and her pulse reached a steady, prepared rhythm, as if all the fear had been used up days before. Their numbers were so great - how could one band of intruders into an already established pack stand against all of this? Even the unearthly-sounding noise that came to her ears from a distance did not dismay her, but she made no reply, letting the more emotive howls from her comrades sound untarnished. She was no more than a footsoldier here, a pawn of her King with no grievance to defend, merely a reputation to uphold - or indeed, to build. Her strength was nowhere near full, but she had offered her body and even if that was truly all she had to give, then she would still give it.

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