Wapun Meadow the crescent city sleeps

She was fine with the dissolution of their conversation up until the parting remark. It burned hot beneath her skin for a moment. If not for the close proximity to the Valley, Echelon would have considering making good on the thought of setting off after her all fangs out for a fight. Instead the dark-haired wolf of Tartok allowed her eyes to rest on the fading sliver of silver-white through the underbrush. If her ruse had been blown from the get go, why hadn't she simply said so? But she considered the other possibility, that she was merely thrown beneath a blanket.

Huffing to herself once the other had disappeared, Echelon moved on from the meadow altogether silently.