Firestone Hot Springs A pale being of mist and moonlight

It was hard to tell exactly what had led up to Dulce's joining of this bandwagon. Even more difficult was trying to say exactly what this bandwagon was, beyond a mixed up group of (sorta) loners. I'm Dulce, she replied, noting that they hadn't had a chance to make formal introductions yet. She waited a moment, expecting the blanchard to respond with a name of her own. 

There was a moment of silence, in which the stench of rotten eggs reached its peak. Dulce used one wet paw to cover her snout, giggling, It smells.