Firestone Hot Springs That'll be me.

The stranger shot Behati a sour look. A dismissive reply followed, eliciting a grimace from the Plateau wolf. "Well fine then," she huffed, and turned to leave. Steam carried the scent of Zaria's blood into the air - a clean, coppery scent, as yet untainted by infection. Behati cruelled wished for the wounds to fester, sent the thought into the universe, and headed north without a backwards glance. The hot springs were large enough for both of them, and there was plenty of territory still to explore. Perhaps she would find one large enough to swim around in.