Hideaway Strath aint going back to barton hollow

Oh hoh hoh hohhhh, no summons was necessary at this point since Rue was so close to the 'strath, and good ol' Dingo was on the prowl! He had no use for the maiden's siren call at this point, although hearing the soft boof among the trees was thrilling when he lost sight of her. She'd come traipsing along the waterway while he had been scouting out some part of the forest or whatever, and being the utter creep that he was, Dingo thought he'd take a shot at charming her. The fact that she was drifting closer and closer to Phox's turf wasn't something he missed but he hoped to intercept her before she could take a step in to the claimed land -- er, nearly claimed land, he should be calling it. They'd been doing a great job pissin' all over it.

Ahoy! He called to her through a wall of trees, falling back on a greeting that had become more of a habit than he really would've liked; then, he came swaggering out from behind the copse, climbing along an old moss-hewn log that was at least three times his width shoulder-to-shoulder. He hoped to make a spontaneous entrance, to help those panties drop. Instead, as he scrambled along the gnarled bark, he tripped on his own feet mid-stride and slid, scrambling, off the forgotten tree's trunk and in to a pile of ferns.

Within moments he'd righted himself, but was covered in a mess of fiddlehead bits, pollen, and whatever else you'd find scattered on the floor of a forest. Dingo grinned up at her from the small gulley where he'd landed and called - utterly free of shame - Oi, you knocked me right off my feet, pretty lady.