Otter Creek the slowest spark is a breather

It came more suddenly than Echelon was prepared for. In hindsight, she should have seen it coming all along. Springing away in a jerky fashion, it was more than clear that she had been startled. A snarl left her as she composed herself, and for a moment the two wolves mirrored each other. But it became very clear that this particular wolf had been through some sort of hell and back. The wounds that littered across her frame, the evident loss of a tail, she really was worse for wear. Not that it mattered overly to her, of course. Echelon's newly budded anger was more upset over being startled than taking worry in the other.

"You picked a horrible place to lay and rot," she growled, offering yet another flash of teeth.