From where she and Tonravik had been scouting out, the valleys on the other side of the mountains were alive with song that carried on still crisp nights. And rightly so, she had set off within a few days to investigate that the one that she had heard. A nestled valley, one that she had crossed through unknowingly, had allowed itself to be claimed by wolves of an interesting sort. She didn't know anything about them or what had led them there and frankly, probably didn't care.

But Echelon was not entirely one to pass up a chance to be found poking around their borders. She was no scout, no spy, just a heathen there to stir up bouts of trouble if she could find them. And in this case as she rounded in close to one particular edge of their territory, she found the mark she was willing to leave and make. Uncertain of how much time she would have, she darted into their territory full on, asking for a plethora of trouble to come. But it was hard to resist the herd of deer that were lingering through a small copse of trees in the light of sunset.

Artok was standing guard, when a shadow went by. He froze for a moment, and then took off in hot pursuit after it. He growled, as he realized the form was a she wolf. He snarled, and went straight for her. There was no hesitation in his step, no fear for his leg or his other wounds. All he knew was she was on his territory, and she was not one of his.

He growled again, Get the fuck off our territory. He snapped at her flanks, trying to get her to turn and go back the way she came. He was injured, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't give as good as he got, in a fight. And he had the pack on his side, if he needed to call for them. And though she may stain the ground crimson with his blood, it would be her throat she'd be eating, when the others came.

As soon as the deer spied her, they ran.

Caught up in the gleeful pursuit of chase, almost not mentioning her devious tactic, Echelon bounded after them. There may have been a certain frame of lunacy to it, but she couldn't resist her chance to be a touch outlandish. And sure enough, some sentinel dispatched himself out to intercept her. He hollered at her, he snapped at her flanks, but she kept bounding right on ahead after those deer. Her lithe figure lent her speed; she was willingly leading the poor wolf on.

In a flurry of scattering ungulates, Echelon darted in between the thick of them to try and conceal herself. It was a double-ended event at that, because in her concealing she aimed to keep those deer running. Even if only a small fraction of the herd scattered, they would remain leery of the wolves that lived in that little recessed valley. And the best thing of all to her was that she had no ties at all to that pack.

ARtok was pissed off now, and rather than continue to chase her. He looked about, and turning he veered off. He had the advantage of this being his home turf, and he intended to veer off. And then cut her off, and that was exactly what he tried to do. Yea it was dangerous, and possibly foolhardy, but he didn't care. There was an intruder, and she was going to pay for it.

So he did that, hoping to come out in front of her, and grab her by the nose, or the scruff of her neck. He met the herd and her, with a growl and a snarl.

Somewhere in the fray from where she ran, he cut in through the herd. Echelon saw him with a moment's notice as the deer parted ahead of her, standing there snarling and carrying on. She veered, turning towards the borders and hoping to avoid any grab that he made for her in the process. The last thing she wanted to do was try and run him over; this was an attempt she knew she would fail. He may have been young, but he was far larger than she, much more weighy and meaty and able to take a hit that would have jarred her significantly. The herd pressed onward, running swiftly away and also well out of her range for a continued pursuit. Just as well, she presumed, as she had done what she had come to do.

Artok was beyond furious, and rather than just let her go, once they ran to the territory markers. He would continue to pursue her. He wanted a chunk of her hide, he was out for blood. So even as she veered, and headed for escape her pursued. Every so often snapping at her hindquarters or sides any which way he could. Hoping to take out more than her fur.

He knew he would have to do some damage detail. Watch the herds a little closer, and it drove him mad with fury. That was more work for him and the others, and it irritated him.

She felt him snapping after her and huffed to herself; Echelon did not fear the youth and his teeth. She had done this act once or twice before, weaving and bobbing to stay well out of any real danger. Her purpose there was to annoy and distract and, well, she had certainly accomplished that number.

But shaking him was another ordeal altogether that she wasn't too sure how to deal with. Not wanting to whirl around on him and fight or be fought, she stuck with the only option that she had utilized so far. She ran, breaking across the rolling expanse of the valley with her vicious defender in tow with nothing more than a satisfied smirk across her face.

Artok increased his speed, though he knew he probably wouldn't catch up. One his leg was still a little gimpy, and secondly she was smaller so faster. She would win this race. However, he wouldn't quit until she was gone completely.

Artok continued the onslaught wondering if she would increase her speed and out run him. Or if he would finally catch her, and if luck should have it, rip her throat out. Or at least hurt her a good bit. He didn't take kindly to trespassers of any kind, she was no exception.

She kept him in tow for just a while longer, making her moves carefully and evasively for when she felt he drew too close. He was not easily deterred and perhaps that was a good thing. If not for his ties to his homeland (or so she presumed), she would have wanted to show him to Tonravik. Echelon liked those with a certain amount of dedication to their cause. But she tired of having him tag along behind him and decided to bolt forward, heading for the thicker brush and rising terrain of the mountains beyond. She would lose him there, this she knew. She did not anticipate him to know the path as well as she had come to learn in the last few weeks.

Ad stopped followed her as she headed towards the brush. Instead he stood still for a bit, tail raised, snarl on his face. He would end her if she ever came back, he hoped she knew this. Finally, as the wind drifted across his fur, and she was gone, he snorted and turned. He walked stiff legged and anxious back home. Irritated and angry, he would head straight for where the she wolf had been and pee all over her scent completely obliterating it.