"One would think," Freddie replies, "But I have it on good authority that in terms of sheer ground speed they're roughly equivalent to a steer, and while I cannot claim to be any expert on livestock, I have nearly found myself trampled beneath a stampeding herd of cows before and I can tell you they move at quite a surprising clip when their blood is up."

She's not really much of a tracker, all things considered, so it's good their prey is both very large and very careless of its surroundings. She steers her mount--a nimble grey mare of very fine stock if one knows about such things--weaving around a rocky section of the path with ease, the horse surefooted and her rider quite comfortable.

"Have you given much thought to how we shall capture her when the time comes?"