Firestone Hot Springs so this is home now

The scent of man and morningside revealed himself, words cutting through the steam between them.  His greeting caused a coy dip of the head, ears slicking back against the delicate curvature of her head.

Yes, it is, thank you.  She looked him over as she spoke, taking in the various dusty hues of the titan before her.

She hummed as she thought of an answer to his last question.  Not yet.  Maybe.  I kind of, well, fell.  And I'm being taken care of, which came out not quite as elegant as she'd hoped.

Mira.  Mirabelle Melisende, of Eirann.  The wolves here had not returned her formalities, her deep and gestured bows so instead she craned her head forward, chin parallel with her chest in a sort-of bow instead.  

I'm debating on staying, she muses aloud, curious of what this newcomer has to say of the Morningsiders.