Firestone Hot Springs life will be all like what.

there's a moment, shortly after she announces that she didn't have a sense of smell, in which brisbane contemplates it seriously. was that even possible, he wonders? to be born without a sense of smell? probably. how high were the chances of being able to survive without a sense of smell? likely not high. his eyes narrow and his ears flutter back to rest at half mast atop his skull as he gives her a skeptical look. she says it with such straightforwardness that it does give him pause. momentarily. the seed of doubt's been planted and along with it a rise of irritation — he doesn't enjoy being the butt of someone's jokes.

scarred muzzle lifts slightly as he regards her down the length of it. oh yeah? he inquires with coy and theatrical fascination. very lucky. smells a lot like ass. he replies nonchalantly deciding that it wouldn't hurt to play along, almost 99.9 percent sure she's trying to pull one over on him. but guess you wouldn't know what that smells like either. spoken with a cheeky grin tugging at the edges of his ruined lips.

so ...how d'you hunt? how d'you keep from just ...walkin' into a claimed pack's land? he inquires, wondering how clever she was and how far she was willing to take it.