The Inquisition now; for Wren, and for her. All of them cut loose of their masters - some of them more savagely than others - and chasing, chasing, chasing. Their own tails, in some cases, but not all. No. Chasing higher purpose, too, chasing any purpose; the common ground is a shifting sand, but it's there.

“All elf girls look the same.”

(She doesn't know how much of her survival is already that awful truism.)

“So no one slowed me.”

And you won't, either.

She isn't angry. Right now.