Never mind that she just got here. Never mind that she is doubtless footsore. "You will start tomorrow," is the immediate rejoinder. "Tonight," she continues, in a gesture of welcome that she would extend to very few before their trial, "you have things to learn." She turns away from the grass, heads towards the surf, purpose in the movement of her shoulders.
"I will show you," Bitterleaf says, with unerring instinct for what Frenzy needs, "what there is here to hunt."
