Kintla Flatlands tiptoe through the window

Up the mountain, down the mountain. It was a recurring exercise and the hybrid seemed to have become incredibly adapt at finding ways between the highlands and the flatlands below. Even with the lingering injury to his leg, though it was mostly a dull ache now, he made good time getting himself around. Of course this trip would (hopefully) be his last anywhere near the spire and it's inhabitants. He was feeling rather relieved in the latest turn of events, things would seem to be turning to his advantage, with his newfound feelings of satisfaction and relief, he decided to pay the hotsprings a visit, with the idea of spending time relaxing amongst the steaming pools of water to help rid himself of any lingering stink the spire, and his last encounter with its wolves, left embedded his coat.

As he meandered his way down the rolling slope toward the river that kept him from the springs he recalled the last visit to them and the playful, yet terrifying, experience he had with one particular female there, having since made up with the harlequin he felt safe returning. He continued trotting as best he could still favouring his sore leg despite its healing progress.

The half-breed, finally reaching the river, probably should have taken more notice of the familiar scent that wafted about from the nearby pack. Of course being in a rather good mood, the idea that the familiar smell was not just from the pack wolves traipsing about the flatlands, instead being from one resting nearby was completely alien to him. As such the hybrid would more than likely walk straight past the resting wolf without noticing, and take a few steps into the river to take a quick drink before crossing the water-body and into the hot springs. That was the plan.

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