Firestone Hot Springs stars are not here to be pretty

“No, no, don’t drink the water Frank.” Stitch frowns, entirely unaware that they’ve got company, letting out a disapproving chuff when the baby raccoon blinks owlishly at her ( Stitch recognizes the look it’s her signature after all ) and swallows her little mouthful quickly because she’s a little shit. “I know I said it’s important to stay hydrated but I didn’t mean hot spring water.” Stitch hasn’t ever had the desire to drink it and isn’t even sure if it’s safe and now she’s going to be worry about it for the rest of the day and most of the night she’s sure. “That’s it Frankie. We’re never coming back here again.” Yet, her words don’t even sound convincing to her own ears as she sinks further down into the pool, letting out an involuntary sigh seconds before she hears a undignified squeak and the scramble of paws on the spring’s floor. Stitch’s ears are alert and her muscles tense, ready to propel herself to protect Frank if she needs to. The raccoon climbs up her muzzle without hesitance, sticking her little clawed foot in Stitch’s ear before she scrambles to plop down on Stitch’s crown, curious but weary from no doubt being startled.

“Hey!” Stitch calls to the body. “You ok?” Stitch calls out as she settles back into the water, feeling more relaxed now that Frank’s safely upon Stitch’s person. Stitch could make a quick getaway if it became necessary and that was how she liked it. Stitch was a runner, after all ( and she was particularly talented at it ). Her ears perk again as a distinct sound of footfalls catch her attention for the second time as a male appears. “This must be the cool hangout spot.” Stitch attempts to make light of it and her voice is bolder than she feels but she’s timid by nature and she’s prepared to bolt even as she attempts to make casual conversation.

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