Firestone Hot Springs I think I could, if only I knew how to begin

It seemed that escaping the clutches of the ocean was no easy matter. Despite the distance that he had traveled and the time that had lapsed, he swore that the scent of the salt was still lingering and that its sticky residue was still clinging to his legs (he glanced down at them yet again, and, just as they had earlier that day, they appeared clean and unbothered as ever). At first, the grasslands were a welcome reprieve, seeming a simple and predictable landscape by comparison, but then Sieghard stumbled across the hot springs.

With a high degree of reluctance, he began to approach the outskirts of the pools. The heat emanating from the waters was troubling, and his concern was reflected in his eyes as he carefully inspected the area. Each step forth was hesitant. He moved with the care and subtlety of someone trying to squeeze past a dormant snake, uncertain whether or not the snake would allow passage or strike out. Ugh, he thought as an unfamiliar odor assaulted him, his nose wrinkling, but then it passed. His journey felt daunting, these lands unlike anything he'd ever encountered. He felt like a fish out of water, reduced to ignorance. This not-knowing needled his pride.

He spotted Arielle and contemplated her peaceful figure. For several seconds, Sieghard regarded her with an emotion bordering on disdain. Clearly, she thought that these waters posed no threat - were they actually harmless, like the surf of the ocean had been? What a fool I am. Yet, his best hope of learning quickly was to engage with her and any others with whom he crossed paths, so he made a beeline for her, halting when he was a few yards away. There it was again - that awful smell that came and went in flashes. "These waters smell like some kind of rot!" he exclaimed, his tone almost joking (but he was rather serious about his statement). "You don't seem to mind it, though!" he marveled, raising his brows speculatively.

@Arielle