Firestone Hot Springs I heard there’s a dreamland

He couldn't bring himself to actually touch the water. He'd been fussy from the start about it, but in the shift in his attitude over recent weeks, it was just far too unappealing.  There just wasn't any reason for it -- maybe if it seemed fun, but nah, solo didn't sound fun at all so he wasn't going to do the equivalent of ruining his suit.  He'd just leech the ambient heat and try to scrub off any lingering smell that he dragged home with him later.

As he turned away, he then spotted someone nearby.  Hm.  Squint.  Might as well investigate.  If it turned out to be a Moonspear or Nightwalker wolf, they were pretty far from home, so probably not them. So he strode over, curious.  The diluted figure didn't fully saturate, even when he could see her clearly.  She was slightly bigger than him and totally unfamiliar -- but given their surroundings he was going to have to deal with just visuals for now, as he stopped at a conversational distance and still mostly smelled sulfur.

Hell, Mal was still trying to figure out who he was -- every meeting was still a bit of an experiment.  The way he had stopped had posed him in a not regal but at least put-together way, a change from previous months.  With a tip of his head and a flick of his tail, Mal mused, Well, you're an unfamiliar face.  I don't normally find too many people here though.  He was still trying to figure out what sounded cool.  But some of his last attempts had ended up going way off the rails for other reasons.