“Yes. The familiars serve the witches.” She gathered the cloak close about herself, careful to keep the hem from dragging or catching on any of the needles. She wanted to make sure she returned the cloak in exactly the state she’d borrowed it in.
“If you’re sure.” He grinned at her before resuming the course he had chosen.
The cat walked for a time, leading her along a path that only he could see, for he certainly didn’t follow any of the trails crisscrossing the forest for very long. Every so often he’d stop and clean his paws, watching her through glowing eyes as he did.
On the third such stop, rather than sitting down, he remained upright, his ears straining at the night. “I think I have need of the first favor,” he said without turning around.
Wordlessly, the moon lifted the hood from her face, washing the forest about them with her silver light. Without warning, the cat darted off to the right and ran up the side of a tree as though the earth’s pull had no permission to impede his movements.