Horizon Ridge of winter and the bleak cold breath

HAHA yessssss

He disappeared from the ledge slightly, giving Echelon just the sliver of hope she thought she could use to her advantage. Maybe he was going to move on now, disappointed that he hadn't sent her to an early grave at the bottom of some shallow ravine somewhere. Instead, gravel began to rain down as she tentatively took the few first steps upward. This halted her attempt, leaving her to ensure the rocky shower any way she could. The tiny stones didn't hurt her, but they certainly served to aggravate her further.

Yet this became minor compared to the wolfish way he spat on her next. It took a moment, a good full few seconds for the action to register before she was wild and electric with anger. He wasn't trying to push her further down the slope now — he was taunting her. Wide-eyed and feral at her core, she put far more strength than it required to start back up the slope at him. It worked for the first couple of meters upward, but she tired in her display. Her grip faltered, leaving the inky Tartok wolf to slide back down to where she had perched originally.

And that's when the idea that climbing upwards wasn't going to work hit her, but maybe sideways would. It was not a descriptive, obvious ledge she was on like they had been before, but she was not unfamiliar with uneven terrain. She moved along the loose shale and earth, sliding this way and that, but ultimately drawing a line across the ridge. She'd find where the trail met again, or another way up. She'd get back up there, unless he stopped her. She'd finish this mockery with his carcass rolling down the hill.

At least that was the implication she wanted to leave him with — for Echelon, she knew she lacked the strength now to do any such thing. This was her tactic as a means to save face and get out of there, now. She'd shallow her failure and her shame alone, somewhere else.