Look out for number one

"Go to hell," she hissed for probably the thousandth time as she was herded along towards an unknown destination, griping, groaning, and protesting in a myriad or ways for the entire duration of their little trip. The last thing someone who looked as horrid as Echo had recently discovered she was looking when gazing into a shallow pond earlier would want was to not only be found but be drug off to see someone else. Vanity wasn't really the entire reason for her displeasure and numerous escape attempts that all seemed to have been in vain. No, it was just a much less frustrating way to look at the situation.

Truth be told, things were not all sunshine and rainbows for Echo these days. Forget the fact that's she'd only recently escaped from some rather unpleasant wolves after a couple seasons of being their captive plaything along with more than a few others. Forget that she'd spent absolute ages plotting and planning her escape, forced to buddy up to some guys who honestly made her feel queasy, and only barely managed to get away from them at long last - and had to evade some pursuers after her grand exit from their grasp. All that was apparently for absolutely nothing because she managed to run into some stupid blue asshat and said the wrong thing, and now she was being forced against her will to go with him to who the hell even knew where!

For probably the tenth time this hour, Echo decided she was fed up with being prodded along by this... this... Shithead. Suddenly she collapsed to the ground and dig her best to glue her body to it, refusing to go any further and enter the stand of fruit trees he was apparently taking her to. "I'm not going, screw you, ya' didn't even say please once, and one of these times I'm gonna scream and someone'll come. There's probably one decent wolf left out there," it sure wasn't Echo, but... someone "This ain't no way to treat somebody, I didn't do anything this time, don't make me take your ears off so they match mine! Although I bet you'd look a little better with a nice crop, might make up for your shit personality," she rambled. Fighting him off had been... well, an exercise in futility. Horrendously embarrassing might be a better descriptor but she didn't really plan on retelling the story so understatements seemed good enough.

She considered waiting until he got close enough and trying to kick a nice big clod of dirt in his face again. That had been pretty funny, but she suspected he might have his guard up enough now that it wouldn't work. It'd been the only way she managed to run a good half mile from him the first time, but he clearly had a lot more stamina than someone who'd been worked to death for a few seasons.

Even as she lay, dramatically sprawled across the ground, she kept an eye on him at all times. Always searching, watching, looking for an opening, a chance to run, to fight, anything. He'd seemed relieved earlier though, so she suspected they were too close to wherever he wanted to go for her to get away very easily now. Of course, her last escape hadn't been easy either. But she'd made it. If there was one word to describe Echo, survivor might do nicely.