Smokeless Jade Fires does not carry her lance as she exits the hangar. Rather, she emerges flanked by her pack, each one tethered to her will. Her jackals! She was meant to be nothing more than the pattern governing one of them: sleek, adjusting their position midair with minute movements of their vents, lightly armored but packing a bite. She does not rely on them— refuses to rely on them— but they have their uses, and she refuses to deny herself the use of them where appropriate, either. She will fight with claw and lash, with the strength of her idol, with Dolly’s grace, and she will use her jackals to deny Ksharta Talonna a place to hide.

The jackals’ patterns are simple, almost childish; Jade runs her fingers through their algorithms, whispers approval, encourages them to optimize object avoidance, and sets them loose. She runs an idle claw up Dolly’s back, encourages her into a relaxed stroll without hesitation, and opens her mind to

[i]running lashing whipping branches
light dappled on the water
the worldshape of echolocation
a net woven through with light
eyes above and eyes below and eyes across
vent, boost, correct
world as motion
world as speed
world as scraped
world as known
and
THERE[/i]

Jade barks a tangled knot of intent and it becomes a slug fired from the jackal’s jaw, punching through: a vine, bark, the wood beneath; scraping: chips from the tree, paint from the shin.

The pack contracts, whining, howling, as Ksharta Talonna explodes from her nest and swats the drone out of the sky. Jade half withdraws out of the pack (it’s all pattern algorithms, they’ll flush her out, hit her as she crosses a path) and urges Dolly into a run; she needs to be faster, needs to reach the inflection point before Ksharta Talonna does; she licks almost viciously at the back of Dolly’s legs and rump with a thought that cracks, and she shivers at the sound that threatens to explode out of her bride: the squeak, the groan, the helpless protest that she’s already going as fast as she can, because that’s not true, is it, Dolly, you can go faster, [i]there’s[/i] a good girl, keep up the pace or else~

After all, don’t you want to look your very best for your peers? We’ve an audience, Dolly. Chin up, leash taut, mouth stuffed, hands clawed, moving in a blur that’s as close as you can come to the sublimity of lingering in the head of a running jackal. Good girl, [i]good[/i] girl.

[Smokeless Jade Fires has rolled a [b]6[/b] on Defying Disaster with Wit to make flushing out Talon look good and effortless, and I am putting Jade’s plan of an ambush on the line; perhaps Talon is making a deliberate feint, or plows into Jade in unfavorable ground (perhaps a river crossing is involved). Regardless, they mark their second XP.]