Qeya River here come the church mice trying too hard

Mojave understood that, the need to roam with more than just herself to keep company with. Packs had their benefits, she wasn't about to deny that much. Finding one that was worth capturing her loyalty for even a moment was not yet a feat, and probably because she put her own survival as a priority. Chances were, that was simply how it was going to be, at least for now, and until those priorities had a chance to reevaluate themselves. Even on that note, it would have seemed that she missed part of the message that the viking gave. It wasn't so much the pack that was scary, but rather the experience. She understood it as well, and nodded to convey as much.

"Geysers are like these holes in the ground, but not always holes, and they shoot steam out of them," she went on to say, almost bypassing the question that had been asked. Her explanation started off rocky, to say the least. How had Portia explained it? "And the steam is really hot, like... melt the fur off you off. They're kind of neat, though." A haphazard smile flitted across her features then; she knew her description wasn't the best.