A long, slim body shot over the orchard, flying low so the branches creaked and leaves whispered sharply, waking Quercus from his slumber. At first, he tried to ignore it, but after the third pass that rocked the tree in which he slept, he reluctantly made his way above the canopy, blinking sleepy eyes against the setting sun.
The first thing to notice were the two red pennants flying at her sides, at the ends of golden poles embedded in her flesh. If they at all hindered her speed, sh...