All it takes is the final feel of her settling into place and he's off. Powerful muscles bunch and loose under the sleek line of his fur and it's not so much a lurch forward as the suddenly flowing of movement like water tumbling down rocks. He was built for speed and the world first rushes past and then begins to blur as he finds his rhythm. The monsters that were so close are suddenly far, far behind and the forest becomes darkness and moonlight, melting waterpaints and ice cold wind. The Forest has used him for it's own purposes far too long and now he cuts through it with innate familiarity. His loyalty to the precious cargo on his back.