Wapun Meadow And miles to go before I sleep

In the shallow depths of the copse, Echelon allowed herself to settle low to the ground beside Tonravik. Almost cat-like, the flighty dark-haired wolf had drawn her limbs close to herself, as though the very action would conceal her entirely from the world around them. And perhaps that was her intention, as it was one thing for Tonravik to be seen. She prefered not to be, forever lingering in the shadows or in the cover of brush. There was a reason why they did not contend over who led and followed; Echelon was content with doing the following. In many ways, she considered herself a mere extension of Tonravik, nothing more than an additional pair of eyes and ears on the world.

Which as the silence dropped in between them, Echelon's gaze was anything but rooted. She watched through the obscured crop of dried grass and grain, watched out across that meadow to see if anyone would come to follow. And in that watch, she quietly voiced her opinion on their recent, not-so-newcomer to their fold. "I am not sure of Njal." An exhale followed her words. "Emotion rules him." She refrained from having the disdain in her voice, but the conversation that the two had on the icy backside of the glacier still rang in her mind. They were not emotionless creatures by any means, but rather she thought them to keep it tempered. They were not controlled by them, or at least by all of them.