Firestone Hot Springs mare's milk

anoré exhales through her nose, unimpressed. this was no dying man—just a wayward fool. she flicks water from her paw, stepping back as the man grins up at them, all bravado despite his sorry state.
her gaze shifts and meets the other woman’s with the faintest trace of dry amusement, "if he is well enough to joke, he is well enough to stand." she reasons, and faces the man again, "how is it that you found yourself in the springs?"