Firestone Hot Springs Before we ever were afraid of the unknown

Oh. She realized belatedly that her voice was quite flat, and that it could offend her actual company, but she made no attempt to modulate it. Instead, she moved closer, into the steam. It was like fog, but very warm, and despite the heat, a chill ran down Blueberry's spine as she became engulfed in the stuff.

It was even as if Fennec's voice were disembodied, coming from the ground rather than an actual wolf. But the tawny woman came back into view once more, and she canted her ears forward, listening somewhat intently.

I'd like to hear my fortune, Blueberry remarked, mouth quirking awkwardly. But I have nothing to give in return. I don't have any food, and I'm not really good at. . .anything, really.

She shuffled her forepaws, wanting to dart off into the heated mist before Fennec could reply. But she held her ground, casting aside the urge both to flee and to chew the inside of her cheek bloody in her indecision. How pathetic, she was!