Firestone Hot Springs go down to the gallows at midnight

She was trying to save face, but all it did was further his amusement with the situation. Perhaps pride really went before a fall among other things, but as she spouted and defended that her senses betrayed her his patience was rewarded. Yet it was difficult to categorize it as a reward; injuries were really not means to draw win and lose with.

To look at her paw better, he closed in the distance between them, carefully minding the scalding pool as he skirted past it. The warmth of it was hard to ignore, almost inviting with the chill that had set upon him. It may have intrigued him more had he been alone, but his focus remained steady on her ill-favored limb. Dirge admittedly did not know whether it seemed bad or good, though the former seemed apt; his ears fanned back thoughtfully as he appraised.

"For a while I'm sure," he decided, "perhaps we ought find a cooler pool to take the sting out of it. Worth a shot at any rate," and assuming she would tolerate his company to seek one out. His gaze shifted to meet hers questioningly—did it seem a fair proposal?