Nyx tore through the trees like a streak of midnight lightning, her paws barely touching the ground as she moved. The forest parted for her—branches rustling, leaves scattering in her wake. Her black coat glinting under slivers of dying sunlight.
The single white stripe that ran down the center of her face, seemed as if the moon had kissed her and left its light behind. It gleamed as she wove between pines and oak.
Lena felt alive in her.
There was no war in her mind. No second-guessing. No expectations dragging at her shoulders like chains.
In Nyx’s form, the world was stripped bare—instinct and sensation took the place of thought.
Just movement and the rhythm of the earth beneath her.
She could feel everything—every stretch of muscle, every bite of wind against her fur, every sti
