Firestone Hot Springs you were shiftin' around like

golden man continued moving, now, first guided by the wind, then by a sweet scent that was faint amongst the steam that rose from the ground, though drawing closer he quickly learnt that it was pools, hot springs, that warmed the air, that disguised the smell that had drawn him to this place. for he was a man, little else and little more.

but what he was not was a savage.

his voice came low, alerting the woman of his presence as he drew nearer: hello, came iseldur's words as he restrained himself from getting any closer. he felt that if he did he may bury his nose in her pelt, in her hips, her scent. she was in her season, that much he could gather, because what other reason was there for her to smell so delectable? it was all he could think about, but he forced more words from his throat: i am iseldur.

a breath was drawn. what is your name?