Firestone Hot Springs silence can mock

“”

At the soft sound, Lecter turned from where he had plunged a thick stick into the muddle of singed leaves, rotating it in an awkward fashion to stir his potion more aptly within the boiling water. As a testament to his previous failed endeavours, several smaller sticks bobbed on the surface of the hot liquid, bark wet and curling in the steam. His own muzzle had been burned somewhat, provoking a curse from the shaman as he dropped his stirring tool onto the ground and bristled at the appearance of another male.

A extending of his muzzle into the moist air brought the scent of the Creek; this was one of Fox's, truly. Lecter did not see Jinx having invited the man and his wife to depart with them. Therefore, he said nothing, wondering if the redwolf had sent the Warden to spy upon him.

“ Is there something you have need of?” the bloodstained shaman inquired coldly, the ice of his eyes seeking to turn aside the fierce glow of the other's gaze. “ If you do not, depart; I am busy.”

With a lingering glance to the gunmetal man, the Eta turned, lowering his muzzle to retrieve the stick and plunge it with a spray of hissing droplets back into the 'tea' he had created, which was beginning to perfume the steam with an acrid herbal scent.