Elara moved through the forest with grace. Twenty-five students followed her – not the tenth Ronan originally suggested, but closer to a quarter of Class B's remaining strength.
It felt like a lot.
It also felt like nowhere near enough when thinking about invading another class entirely.
She glanced back at the group.
They moved quietly, weapons ready, expressions tight with focus.
Ronan hadn't come. That still bothered her.
He'd shrugged when she asked, said something about holding them back because he wasn't as powerful as the rest of them.
She couldn't disagree with that – Ronan's combat ability was pathetic compared to most of the class – but she'd still felt uncomfortable watching him stay behind at the base and not here on the frontlines.
Since when do I feel uncomfortable without him?
That realization made her even more uncomfortable. She didn't want to think about it.
She shoved the thought aside and focused on the terrain.
