Wullaminmin folded her paws together and lifted her head to gaze remotely past the group of lolling Leopards.
"I understand that you call yourselves the Leap," she said, sniffing the air with a delicate disdain, "perhaps the Jerky Pounce would be more fitting."
She glanced across with unspoken meaning to her second, and unhurriedly, in slow, graceful bounds, the Mob turned south, heading for drier lands; the Leopards shrugged, supposing that if they ever needed to know what on earth she'd said, Aslan would see to it.

(Thanks for the further inspiration, Syrena! :) )