Firestone Hot Springs It was the wicked and wild wind

And another!

The springs were a place he had not traveled in a while, but as he left the river behind him, he decided to make the quick jaunt.  A place of respite, to perhaps mull over some things that had been resurfacing of late.  With a settling down of immediate concerns came the arrival of past ones, or so it usually went.  The mind wasn't always the best at sitting idle, or his was not at least.

They were not fears so much as gentle stirrings, a small bit of anxiety that could be passed off as paranoia but plagued him still.  He had disclosed of his past to none but Peregrine, and even to his former leader, he had not told all.  He hoped that this continued silence (and it would continue, for he had no desire to end it) would not come back to bite him, and that his worries were unfounded.  Sometimes the past was best left buried, so long as it did not fester.  Sometimes this decision wasn't left up to the one doing the burying, though.  There was only so much to be done when it dug itself up and came searching.

Skirting a pool of steaming water, he peered within, allowing the warm mist to settle about his face.  Sighing,  he laid down upon the warmed stones at the lip of the basin.  He was simply being an idiot, caught up with ghosts because he had nothing better to fret over.  Honestly.