Whim could tell that there were a number of wolves in the area, and even a fair few packs. He recognised a couple of scents on the air, as well, and so he planned to stick around at least long enough to get the lay of the land and find out what was what. He set his mind, then, to exploring the landscape a bit, just to get his bearings; he didn't much like the idea of being in an unfamiliar area surrounded by unfamiliar wolves. It backed him into a metaphorical corner should things for some reason go awry, and so he sought to remedy the situation with knowledge. He didn't expect things to go wrong because he was a troublemaker, particularly — it was just that, in his experience, if a thing had the ability to go right or go awry, it went awry. Things liked to do that. Whim liked knowing how to parry it.

Despite his good intentions, however, Whim quickly found things going in that ineffable awry direction when he found himself tip-toeing between a series of hot springs with an expression on his face that did not remotely bely his displeasure with the situation. He was a hulking creature with loads of thick fur, and so he and summer were forever at odds by virtue of his Northern lineage; to exacerbate the already unbearable heat by stranding himself amidst a series of pools that emitted heat was perhaps one of the most frustrating and uncomfortable things he'd ever done.

Face sternly set and eyes on the ground as he picked his way through the nearly tropical area, Whim growled a bit under his breath as he sought to leave the area as soon as possible, while avoiding any and all contact with the way-too-hot water that surrounded him.