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“Raven,” Octavia nearly growls, snapping Raven’s attention back to her, back to her horse. “We have to go.”
Raven shifts her weight subconsciously, favoring her good leg. Her fingers brush against the cool metal of her brace but she quickly yanks them back a second later, the brace suddenly scalding. “I know,” Raven tries, voice as solid as her body will let it be. She makes no effort to move to get onto the horse. That’s all she gives Octavia. Really, it’s all she can give herself.