Lion Head Mesa That's a fine looking high horse

“Shhhhhh!! I coooould geeet in biiiiiiig troublee,” futile prompts are stuffed between clamorous bouts of her own laughter that rose in wolven tones to dance with Legend’s howl. Most the palace would be asleep now- surely? Or otherwise, too engrossed in other activities to care for commotion at the baths.

She rounds the cusp of the spring, warm steam tingling across her fur from off the surface of glass. Even drunkenly she prepares the water with an excess of oils and fragrance and offers to her raven friend an escort’s arm. She lets out an exaggerated sigh as the flushing water licks up her legs.

“Enoughhhh of menn,” she rests her neck over the brim to leer at the girl across from her, “who are you?”

“Telll mee your secrets, Legennd.”