Firestone Hot Springs each must die someday

It's totally ok, dude!

Rian sensed a bit of hesitation as Kjalarr ruminated over his question before finally coming up with an adequate answer. The little O'Malley boy was not unwelcome to the idea that greater things lived beyond and above them, but he only wished he could be presented with undeniable proof—something Kjalarr was, understandably, unable to provide. Still, when the great pale wolf turned to ascertain Rian's reaction, the boy nodded. It was a suitable answer, but it didn't really quell the curiousity now brimming in his racing mind.

Kjalarr came to a stop beside one of the steaming pools, one of the hundreds dotting the landscape. Somehow this one was better than the others, or maybe the king was tired of walking. He lay his immense body down beside it and Rian eyed the pool warily. His mother had warned him away from them in the past—the heat was so great that it could boil bone into nothing in an instant. But he could not resist the siren song of the warmth it provided. He felt it radiate past his fur and into the depths, kissing his skin like a gentle lover. 

Rian stretched his legs down and curled his haunches beneath him, rolling half on his side opposite of Kjalarr so he was facing the Alpha. He bent to lick idly at his frozen paws, but stopped when a thought occured to him. "Did we upset her? Is that why the snow is so bad?" He asked, curling his neck and settling his chin easily against his throat. He regarded the pale wolf with an openly curious look; it was the most alive Rian had looked in months.

Kjalarr went on to explain in further detail, and Rian was utterly enchanted by the tale. But even the warmth of the hotspring could keep the cold at bay for long, and the pair retreated back to Neverwinter when it became too oppressive to bear.