What did this female think she was doing?

I let her herd me like some sort of prey for a while, one ear constantly flicked back as she stalked me, because I was curious as to what she intended. It would have been easy to simply turn around, brace my legs, and challenge her, but there had to be a motive for her actions as she stalked and circled and edging back and forth. Instinctively I knew what she wanted. It was the same way wolves herded prey into a specific kill zone but I didn't sense any ill intent from her or else I would be salivating and chasing HER down. Whatever her reasons I would figure them out before I decided what to do so my obsidian legs trail across the ground with ease and grace. I am willowy, my legs longer than most, and while I definitely wasn't born to be a fighter that wouldn't stop me if I was put in the position. I lift my nose into the air, inhaling the rich scents that sweep down the foothills of the mountains because that is the direction we are headed. With it comes the rich scents of wolves, so many it seemed impossible for a pack that size.

My yellow eyes flick to the side to catch the shadow of Morrigan keeping pace with me and my lips peel up slightly in a way to show her that while I was following along, I wasn't going to put up with any funny business. There is a difference between being a fool and being practical, after all. The land seems to dip and weave in a way I am unused to, not having lived so close to mountains to have ever intruded into the foothills. I can see so much from the top but as we dip down into a forested area I loose sight of everything, the ground leveling out and the sounds of raucous birds echoing about.

It is almost like a wall that I come up against when I hit the border, the markers left by Roman strong. Newer than the faded female scent. I would wager he had recently taken over the pack, though by which means I knew not. I paused there, at the marker, nose down and tail stiff behind me as I sniff. Then, slowly, I turn my head to face the direction of Morrigan. It puts me at a defensive advantage, head low, lest she try and go nuts on me. "So you got me here. I think that was your plan anyways. What for?" My voice is cool, almost indifferent, although I am curious and, so far, not angry.