it's a small crime, and i've got no excuse

Shit. What was she doing? Bazi forced herself to maintain the intense, brooding stare, but her heart was slamming against her ribs like a freshly caged prisoner. She did not want to leave Swiftcurrent Creek. What if Paarthurnax would not go with her, or one of the pups died on the way? She would never forgive herself.

But Scimitar wanted to leave. Bazi could see it in him - that wholly masculine longing to claim something for himself - and she wanted Scimitar, however much contempt she had for his desire to piss on fresh territory. The feeling made no sense; of all the wolves in Swiftcurrent Creek, her relationship with Scimitar was the most bizarre, most tense, and most fraught. It was a million miles from the easy love that Njal and Tuwawi had shared, but Bazi was nevertheless determined that she must have him.

"It's settled, then," she concluded with a brisk nod, amazed to hear her own voice speak the words. "We'll need to scout."