Firestone Hot Springs and our throats were bare for god

he stretches, disturbing the water around him. it ripples, distorting the clearness of the spring and therefore enabling aria from seeing the leg he mentioned was wounded. her nose twitched, curiosity tugging at her tongue, but she did not ask about his injuries-- not yet. she herself has a wound on her shoulder, that perhaps he could see, and though it does not pain her-- the story does. perhaps his story is similar, and she doesn't wish to be the stranger that pries. "from the west," she replied with a perk of her ears. she doesn't know how familiar he is with the land, if saying 'moonspear' would ring any bells. if he asked, she'd share, but direction was sometimes enough of an answer. "this is a nice break," she adds, a small smile tracing her lips.