Firestone Hot Springs take the road less traveled by, tell yourself you can always stop

"I beg your pardon?" Dwin feigned being insulted, when Sylvie indirectly claimed that witches were stinky. She added a shocked expression and even lifted one forepaw as if attempting to place it to her chest, but the canid anatomy did not allow her to do that. "I belong the to the proud tribe myself," she said. "You better watch your tongue, Miss Toadstool," she bumped her shoulder against Sylvie's playfully and then went ahead to see, if Towhee by any chance was here somewhere. In this stench scent capacities were useless.

"Nah - I did not, but that hag certainly went in for some cooking," Dwin explained, casting a brief glance in Sylvie's direction and then turning her attention back to a pool, filled with bright blue water and fumes coming up. "But - you have to admit - after that crappy weather we have had recently, getting warm here is quite a treat. Don't you think it would be nice, if we had something like this at home? Kind of like... camp-hot-water-spouting thingie."