Firestone Hot Springs and our throats were bare for god

he does not strike, does not attempt. aria is not a fighter, but her anxiety has made her a keen observer, and she does not see his limbs flex or his body twitch forward. he lies still, shpynx-like and almost regal, and aria allows herself to moved deeper into the pool. it is not until he completely acknowledges her-- with a calm, simple greeting-- that aria relaxes fully into the water. she does not respond right away, instead settling in and allowing the warmth of the water to gage her full attention-- it's sensation much needed. but, once she's situated, her pale gaze gives a half blink through the heat that radiates from the water, focusing on him curiously. "hello," she repeats with a small dip of her head. her chin grazes the pool, rising to release a few water droplets back into the water. then she is still.

"have you been traveling?" she asks, wondering if he entered the pools for the same reason she did.