Ravensblood Forest grateful our cold memories bide

She backed off a few steps as the sagely female rose. Fully expecting a fight on her hands, Echelon let loose the growl that had been bridled earlier. But what met her was the same insistence that there would be no quarreling between them, a point that was driven home by the refusal of the other to take her gaze away from the flightly Tartok youth. She scoffed at the older wolf's words, not caring that she wasn't there to hurt anyone. And it seemed to be truth and worked in Echelon's favor, as the older canine turned to leave her.

“That's a smart move,” she sneered arrogantly after her, but did not pursue her. Instead she would let her go, and just as the equally dark-haired wolf had turned away from her, Echelon turned back to her path and continued onward at a steady lope. She didn't want to be followed, not that she considered it a necessary problem at that point. But her angry, if not erratic actions remained justified in her mind, and the inky creature resumed her search and pursuit of Tonravik promptly.