The Heartwood swift and deadly

No problem!

He didn't hear her at first, either from the simple surprise at finding life in such a dead space or from a lapse in his judgement. Whatever the case, when Corvo did detect the stranger it was only from the faintest crunch of snow beneath a step. He didn't stop walking, not wanting to alert his pursuer that he was aware of their presence. He wasn't yet sure of who followed him. Casting his eyes about while maintaining a smooth, steady gait, Corvo searched for any cover, but there was none to be had. 

In his mind, he cursed. He'd smelled the scents of other wolves about since entering this land, and he was at a disadvantage, not knowing the ways of any packs or other lone wolves nearby. He could be trespassing on another's land. He would have no idea. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time that Corvo had crossed paths with others of his kind on his hunt for his brother. These encounters were not always pleasant. He cared little for the rules and boundaries of others since he had no intention of lingering on their territory. But being alone, knowing that a pack or group would have an advantage over him, Corvo was hesitant to cross paths with other wolves. If that was who followed him now, it was looking as if Corvo wouldn't have a choice in the matter. 

Deciding this, he came to an abrupt halt, whirling to face whatever it was that crept behind him. He narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. All the while, his muscles remained taunt and tense, ready to flee if the encounter turned hostile.