Firestone Hot Springs drunk with vivid flame

@FitzDutiful

His previous adventure out to examine Hoshor Plains left one mystery solved only to present another. Zhavvi, now Zaria, was one of the few remaining wolves he knew of the plains pack and one of which he'd warned FitzDutiful about. He was weary of her and at the same time concerned for FitzDutiful. He was a patient and kind wolf. They were noble qualities, but traits that were easily manipulated and taken advantage of. The last time he'd seen his silvertipped friend, the wolf had been in something of a desperate place. He knew well that desperate wolves often did desperate things. He wanted to check in with the wolf and get a feel for himself as to what the situation was all about.

It was none of his business. He realized this. He was just a meddling outsider who happened to know both wolves separately and was still perplexed that they had ended up together. Or in the same area... or together together. He didn't know. Couldn't. But he wanted to hear the other side of the story just to make sure his friend was certain in what he was doing and get the full picture. The complete picture. Not the abridged version that came with the fragmented common tongue of a wolf he didn't truly trust. Nothing against Zaria, but she'd invaded his former territory and was associated with wolves who dabbled in poisons for sport. A coward's weapon and a sneaky one. He'd always associated a wolf's character with the activities they pursued. He didn't want his friend to get played.

He'd informed Tonravik of his brief excursion before slipping across the rolling plains. Now that the Hoshor wolves were gone, this journey was considerably easier. He could take a direct path as opposed to creeping alongside territories. It helped, that he was making a beeline towards one of his favorite places in these wilds. They'd discovered natural hotsprings within the spire, but after a trip like this one, having another set of springs in the distance would do well to ease his travel sores.

Kero wandered through the fog for a bit, letting the warm steam ease the stiffness in his worn muscles and joints as he passed through towards the area on the outskirts of Silvertip Mountain. He lifted his voice as though to knock and see if his dear friend was home.