The most mild-tempered minotaur spoke matter-of-factly. "She's figured out something none of us have."
Fat Goose straightened his back. "Knew it! I told you I couldn't possibly be that dumb."
Mistblade and Maple Syrup both relaxed a little.
Right, it wasn't that their brains couldn't keep up.
The blood elf asked, "Aside from gathering intel on other apprentices, what's she been doing these days?"
Fat Goose replied, "Drawing maps. Counting statues. That sort of thing."
"So… she was aiming for the championship from the start?"
Maple Syrup gave the blood elf a baffled look, as if she'd just asked something ridiculous. "Of course. Why else would she be here?"
The blood elf murmured, "I thought she was just… giving it a try."
The black cat suddenly spoke. "You know why she made you leave the team back then? It's because you were always thinking, 'Let's just try this run,' instead of thinking, like she does, 'The championship will be mine.'"
