The glass shattered with a violent, musical spray of diamonds as Nova's muscular form crashed through the window. The cold mountain air didn't bite; it welcomed her. She was a streak of charcoal and silver against the grey stone of the mansion, a blur of fur and muscle falling through the sky before her paws hit the slanted roof of the veranda with a dull thud.
She didn't stop to catch her breath. She didn't look back at the room that had become her cell. With one powerful spring, she cleared the perimeter fence, her claws digging deep into the damp earth of the forest floor.
'Run,' Nova sang in their shared mind, her paws drumming a frantic, rhythmic beat against the pine needles. 'Faster. Let the lavender smell die. Let the iron of his heart rust without us.'
