She licked her lips, crouching through the lines of men, grateful for the buffer that they provided between her and the frontlines. She was well aware of the sacrifice that had to be offered up so that she could move as freely as she was allowed to, and she felt the intensity of responsibility from it.
The man was bold, and brash, and ever so loud. He didn't seem the sort to cower behind his troops, or make any sort of sudden moves that weren't in line with the mighty charge of a buffalo. She tracked him, and understood him, as she might understand a dear. But she knew him to be a mighty man. Of the Third Boundary, at least, and she had learned quickly, through her experience in this battle, just what it took for a woman of the Second Boundary like her to be able to even wound the likes of a Colonel. Thus far, she'd failed in every attempt, but she could not afford to fail anymore.
