Bramblepoint Burn the Fleet [m]

The pawprints were fresh; she could still see the indentations left behind by Kiwi's toepads, and so she hurtled forth, zig-zagging through the maze of wintering fruit trees and berry bushes, following the path the fiery female had woven. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, knowing that with each stride she took, she closed the gap; Kiwi wasn't running, after all. At least- not yet. Niamh, with her long legs, was built for speed and for covering distance- so she hurtled through the wintery orchard grounds and didn't slow her pace when she caught sight of the ruddy figure trailing along ahead, head down as she went. 

She continued to charge toward the figure, not checking her speed to make any dramatic speeches, or call out to give her approach away. If Kiwi noticed her and began to ran, she'd simply pursue her and hunt her down until she got what she wanted. And if she didn't, then Niamh was prepared to hit the very girl she'd trained to fight, with everything that she had.