Duskfire Glacier of some ghastly predicament in mind

Out of the depths of the growing shadows strode a wolf at long last. His long strides came to her out of focus, as Echelon did not want to take her eyes off the sight of the glacier until she absolutely had to. When that point came, she brought her icy gaze to him, taking in the colors of his ashen coat. The way he carried himself suggested to her that he was more than likely a leader there, but the wind was out of her favor for the time being to affirm it. Still, she deferred lightly and respectfully, removing her gaze from him as he slowed to a stop. Ears slicked back kindly, though it was maybe unlike the word kind to turn up in her vocabulary.

“I am,” she answered, letting her gaze slip away from him to catch the glow once more. “You have impeccable taste in territory.” The envy did not stay from her voice in the slightest, because she truthfully was envious of his claim. Of whoever's claim, on the off chance he would turn out not to be the rightful leader of the terrain. The found mirth in his tone steered her away from thoughts that he would be forwardly aggressive as well, but she still wouldn't have put that past him. Though a wolf of Tartok, Echelon was just as much of a dispersal tasked in aiding Tonravik to secure a claim somewhere else.

The pair chatted for a moment before Echelon departed, not wanting to linger at the borders as the dusky glow of the glacier passed.