Moonspear black holes in my favorite sweaters

shadows lengthen and spill down the mountainside; one takes form. the girl swishes her tail in wordless greeting, though understands soon enough that the queen does not intend to pause long. a flick of her ears conveys her easy willingness to follow, and she twisted to leap after the shadow easily. 

they move quickly over the foothills, Isilme following closely. she guesses their motivation easily enough, relying on the queen to lead the way; she is hardly a good tracker.