Firestone Hot Springs Typhoid and swans

@Nanuq

The weather may have been warm, but the heavy rain that sluiced the dirt underfoot and lanced through her coat said otherwise. She was a wolf, though, and paid no mind to a little water. Her course had been set from the mountain that morning, and even the strongest rain shower could not have deterred her from it.

From the Ghost Rock Network, the cave system she had explored with Tyrande and Sitri, she had brought one of the loose ghost rocks. She did not know its real name nor its properties, but the mountain had an abundance of it. Nobody would miss this one small sample. Her mouth was occupied with the stone, so she carried nothing else with her. She did not intend to return with it.

Columns of steam and the faint smell of sulphur greeted her at the hot springs. Jinx glanced back at Silvertip once, assured herself that it would be well-guarded in her brief absence, and continued into the billowing embrace of the vapour. The water was much too hot in most of the pools to step into, and the cold rain connecting with the surface threw up dangerous plumes of hissing steam, so she skirted them cautiously in her quest for one that produced very little bubbling. She would learn the properties of this stone, beginning there.