Nasha looked down at her bloody hands. A mercy killing for the good of the clan. But would they see it that way? A Sloper killing a Root? No. It didn’t matter where she’d come from. She was Ronar. I did the right thing. Still, how many times had doing the right thing proven more important than how other people chose to see her? Would they see through her Sloper origins? All the rumors that had sprouted from her own Proving?
