Firestone Hot Springs It's just some beasts from the wild can't be tamed, babe

AW, for tracker specialty :) forward dated for @Wraen (around 10/12-10/13?)

With autumn's grip tightening on the earth - squeezing the life slowly from the vibrant world of summer - preparing for winter's breath to freeze the evidence of death left behind, a balance shifted in the world. The small creatures were preparing for the coming struggle: harvesting grains and nuts for their stores, fattening themselves for the long rest of hibernation, lining their beds for a sleep that would see them through to spring's return. So too did Liri prepare: stocking caches near the Door in the event that a season of blizzards erupted like her last winter in Teekon, storing her dried herbs within the atrium's cool and dry walls (for there were sure to be a number of stuffy noses to treat in the coming months), building a nest to rival even the best of birds - a combination of pine needles, fallen leaves, feathers, and animal pelts to keep her family warm on frigid nights. 

The gathering of deer that resided on the plateau had moved west in search of warmer pastures - their own way of coping with the change in seasons. It was the time of their migration, and as such, the tracker rose at dawn to follow. She paused at the entrance of her den - turning back to brush her peppered muzzle tenderly over the dark crown of her mate. Her gaze softened, falling on the spry Illidan who had grown so since she found him by the river. How she worried for him. 

The fae touched her nose to his sooty forehead - gently, as if to assure herself that all was well with the child before finally, the healer departed on silent paws.

The light was dim beyond the shelter of the caverns, for the sky had only recently lightened from the atramentous plane of true night to a deep violet. Periwinkle peeked through the broken gaps in the east, falling where it could between the towering pines and the pale, skinny birch trees. The leader weaved amongst the thick forest - a ghost dancing nimbly over fallen logs and around brush alike despite the ravaged leg dangling from her left flank. 

The birds were quiet yet - it was too early for their songs - and the insects had long since ceased their chirping. The only sound left to grace her ears was the soft wind whistling through the mountains. 

As the tree line thinned, the spirit emerged - gaze drawn to the sky above as she trotted through the dark grass. A few stars lingered - despite the golden light beginning to glow beyond the mountains at her back - and the moon peeked over its shoulder at her with a gibbous face.

Splashing through the shallow portions of the stream - the healer shook out her coat when she reached the far bank, feeling refreshed. The footpaths led her over the edge of her home, into the unknown of the waving grasses. 

The hunter's path was sure, for it was one she'd traveled many times, and she scarcely needed to check for scents or landmarks to confirm where she was. They'd resided on the plateau long enough for the fae to become familiar with the neighbouring territories. The outcrop of her home was nestled just above the Flatlands - the steppes seemed a front yard of sorts to the tracker. She kept within it, for venturing too far south meant risking the chance of encountering her former captives. To go too far west was too intrude upon Moonspear's hunting territories - who were enemies to their allies, Sunspire. The tracker would not go east out of courtesy for their friends in the mountains, not to hunt anyhow. That left north of the Flatlands - to the sea - and the grasslands which were home to their deer. 

The sky lightened - the clouds twisting in the wind as the sun's light turned them orange and gold, much like flames - the stars winking out one by one as Liri approached the land where the deer usually resided. There were hollows in the ground - depressions where the deer had rested - and short, cropped grass where they had grazed. Trampled grass pointed the tracker east, towards the Firestone Hot Springs. 

The water was no good to drink - it was tainted with sulfur, as evidenced by the lingering odor surrounding the pools - but the hunter had an inkling of why the herd might travel to the pools at night. 

As the healer reached the hot springs - halting atop the hill overlooking the grouping of steaming baths - her theory was confirmed. The deer had gathered on the strips of land between the sloughs; some leaned on each other in order to doze while others curled upon the ground. 

Liri rested on her haunches, curling a thick tail around her paws to keep them warm as she observed from her perch in the chilly, dew-dampened grass. She would watch them as the sun rose, as the fog rolled in and plumes of white steam rose off the springs, until the herd moved on to graze by the sun's warm morning rays.