Firestone Hot Springs 'cause i'm through, when the two

Y’var’la’s smirk deepened at his remark, though she hid it behind a low chuckle. “Perhaps,” she agreed, tilting her head slightly. “though its smarter to aim lower. Less chance of disappointment.”

Her words lingered as her olive eyes followed his movements, the way the steam curled against his darkened fur as the water soaked him.

His question caught her attention, and for a moment, her smirk faded into something quieter. Thoughtful. “I find my purpose in what I choose to build," she replied carefully,"in the strength of my alliances, the respect I earn from others, and, if I am fortunate, in the legacy I leave. To be remembered, to influence."

Her gaze flickered to his, steady and unwavering, as he submerged himself into the water, only to rise again moments later. His fur clung to him now, dark and sleek, and the faintest ripple of amusement crossed her face at the sight. “Don't we all?” she remarked.

She shrugged, then, a casual motion that belied the weight of her words. “Tell me, Rökkur. What makes you think you’ve already found yours?” There was no malice in her tone, only curiosity, sharp and probing.