Firestone Hot Springs Wild Childs, Lookin' Good

Steam rolled over head with a baclit glow from a quiet moon. Fireflies danced in a blur in the distance under a canopy of evergreens. Limestone heated warmly, where beddings of moss nestled between their cracks.

Night flourished in a vibrant darkness, and the stars kissed through the pour of cirrus clouds. The imp lay stretched forward by one of the many pools, forelimbs in front of her chest with a lean in her pinched waist. The tip of her tail curled over her hind leg. Fur intertwined with fur where her shoulder met the press of soft cheek, and there she watched the swirl of hot spring water below.

Foggy hues searched at approaching steps. and they met the toned legs of Machiavelli's. The changelings tail unraveled. Greeted with a nuzzle into her flank, she answered gently, airy. "Hello." Her head turned into his cheek, brushing the sides of their muzzles against one another's, trailing warmly down the side of his neck. With closed eyes, breath heated the back of her ear. It flicked down softly against his nose. "Really? What have you found?" An interest piqued.

Opening to meet his gaze, her nose turned into his once more, and eagerly, a smile tugging at the edge of her moon-sheltered lips. "You must show 'secret,'" she urged.