Firestone Hot Springs Sweet mother, Sweet mother

Dante was exhausted, mentally as well as physically. The pack's turmoil was hitting him hard, moreso than he'd like to admit, enough to make him take a rare jaunt across the borders. He needed to get away from the sorrow. It was selfish, yes, but he knew he would be the better for it when he returned. Besides, he wasn't going to go far, and the borders still needed protected. Now more than ever.

He was headed for the perfect spot to escape for a while; the Firestone springs. There he could unwind for a bit, forget himself and the pack's troubles, then return ready to throw himself into it once more. For a wolf used to silence, saying the oppressive gloom of the Plateau was too much was truly saying something.

It seemed he wasn't the only one with the idea, however. When he arrived another was already there, a gorgeous she-wolf who seemed to be chanting something. She finished just as Dante approached, but he hung back. He didn't want to interrupt or bother her if she were using the place for her own sanctuary. She was there first. He could find another spot.