Black Morass White leaves of an oleander

She wasted no time, slinking into line to match pace with her, trying to emulate that same... poise their reverend mother exercised flawlessly. Her mimicry wasn't half-bad, though her legs were a little quicker, the itch of impatience a difficult one to fight.

What are we gonna be doing? Envy leaned inwards, looking up to her as she walked in her shadow. Dark-tipped ears perked curiously.

Something worthy. She wanted it too.