Bitterroot took a few steps away, trying to think. She wanted to feel useful for this hunt, but it seemed like all she was doing was acting as mediator for Trace and Artemis. And sometime punching bag. Thanks to the forest, she couldn’t even do much scouting, the one thing she was really good at. She sighed. It didn’t help that she wasn’t particularly fond of the North, even leaving aside the pervasive cold; towns were few and far between and violent, the air tasted funny, the weather was uncontrollable, and-