Firestone Hot Springs making faces in the clouds

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The air was heavy and hot, a welcome respite from the wavering temperatures that were fast approaching with the onset of Autumn, and a heart-wrenching reminder of summertime in Shearwater Bay. As she pushed her way past waterlogged ferns and over spongy wet terrain, she pushed any thoughts of home out of her mind, focusing singularly on her task: to examine the hot springs for their uses to her, as a voodoo priestess. Back home, it had been difficult, if not impossible, to prepare infusions and baths due to the lack of warm water in their area, but with these hot springs so close by, Jinx was excited to expand her practice into new and unfamiliar territory.

First, they would have to be deemed suitable. If they were so hot as to scald the flesh and weaken a wolf's physical form — for injury did just that, and left the spirit within vulnerable — then they wouldn't work for her. On the other hand, if the water was not hot enough to boil the essence from herbs and pull power from stones, then it was equally fruitless. But they were proving somewhat elusive; the steam hanging over the entire region was telling, but so widespread she couldn't be certain of its origin. All she had found so far was wet foliage, wet moss, and wet stone, and a pool of water nestled at the edge of it all that was definitely not a hot spring, as she had found out when she dipped a forepaw into the chilly basin.

Her fur was damp from trekking through wet undergrowth, and so Jinx took a moment to seat herself in a stone-floored clearing. She twisted her head around to lick firmly at the fur framing her shoulder, pulling some of the moisture from it and settling it into its proper arrangement, or what she deemed proper. The humidity had already made the ends of her fur begin to curl under somewhat, which gave her a poofier appearance than she often wore, but there was little she could do about that. A quiet huff punctuated the abandonment of her attempts at taming her coat; instead, she turned her eyes toward the nearby mountains for a moment of scrutiny and reflection. She only needed a brief break before she picked herself back up to search for the hot springs once more.

As gleefully excited as he was for the upcoming autumn, Maverick was quite the wussy when it came to cold temperatures. Sure, autumn meant it was time for wooing the ladies and proving his worth to the other bulls, but come the first snowfall, his massive frame was sure to be holed up in some abandoned den. It was, to him, only logical to be uncomfortable in the snow. What good was the grass if it was covered, and how much more difficult was it to flee from predators? It was frustrating to herd his cows during the wintry months, but he was as diligent of a bull as they came. It was simply when the women weren't looking that he turned into a miserable sot. But hey, whatever he did on his own time was none of their concern.

Rumors had reached him of this new area hiding springs somewhere beyond the flatlands. His interest had been immediately piqued and, claiming that he was scouting for potential grazing areas for his herd, swiftly broke away. It didn't take long before the male's nostrils flared with the pungent aroma of a predator, but his curiosity quickly did away with any mild concern floating around in the back of his mind. A white blob in the distance became his target that eventually morphed into the form of a young she-wolf. Wolf or not, Maverick loved the ladies. "'Ey yo, wolflin', you seen any hot springs up in here?" The bull hovered a safe distance away, but his arrogance was evident in the casual stance he held while facing down something that would, under different circumstances, want to nom on his insides.

OOC: I've always played Jinx as if she has a rather limited understanding of the "language" of other creatures so... I'll pretend she hears Maverick as having a very very heavy accent of some kind. :P

IC: The heat of the region was beginning to press in around her the longer she sat there, and so although Jinx would've been content to close her eyes and fall into the embrace of sleep there, she forced herself to regain her feet and press on. Her thoughts were jumbled, part of her yearning to turn back and return to the cooler confines of Neverwinter and part of her knowing that finding the springs was important. Vitally so; she could not work her magicks normally here, not without the right plants, and so infusions and baths were going to be all the more precious.

She was stopped abruptly by the sight of an elk materialising out of the steamy distance. Puzzled, the female drew one paw toward her chest and held it poised there, certain that if she set it down on the earth, the majestic creature would run. If he had any ounce of intelligence, perhaps he would; what was to say Jinx didn't have a hunting party on her heels that would carry his soul to Sos' waiting jaws in the Spirit Realm and feast on his mortal flesh? But intelligence didn't seem to be abundant in this one, for though he remained at a fair distance and didn't come closer, he did address her.

Of course, Jinx could barely understand non-wolves, and so what he said was a thick tangle of slow, deep words that might as well have been "yo bitch what up". “What?” she snorted, turning her ears back in mild irritation; what kind of prey animal, buck or no, tried to converse with the sort of animal that would kill and eat it normally? Maverick wore an air of arrogance about him, but Jinx wasn't very well-versed in elk body language, so of course, he just looked proud as any bull elk to her. “Shoo, stupid elk,” she said, turning as though to leave him behind in disinterest, though there was some mild curiosity whether he was even smart enough to follow that command, or if he truly lacked wits and would attempt to communicate once more; and there was a hint of hesitation in her steps to betray it, as well.

Rising sun was too bumpy. Sunspire mountains was too jagged. But the Kintla flatlands seemed just right. Now he only needed a bowl of porridge to go along with the declaration of preferable comfort. Or, perhaps the wilderness equivalent.

And looking ahead, nature had just the thing in store for him. Crusty earwax was a minor impedance to the integrity of the conversation yonder, but he still picked up most of it. His features wore dismay and irritation as he approached, limber in his stride. His hips gave swing as he walked, along with his belly, hostage to the rocking of his fat.

"The fuck is wrong with you! You got six teats but no brains! Who taught you to play with perfectly good food! Oh, oh, I know", he took a whiff of the air as he neared, noting a scent of some or other pack. "Obviously, you sniffed as someone took a piss - because you smell like frickin' piss. Is that your idea of a pack? You too stuck up for food? Damned pack wolf youngsters think you know everything! Ignorant piss n' vinegar, all o' ya! You too good for food!? You know, the thing that keeps you alive? And you're still o'er there freakin' piddly-footin' around! Charge the damn thing! What, you waiting for it to invite you to its bacon? CHARGE!"

He raced towards the moose, Maverick, fangs bared, teeth at the ready. Just because it talked didn't make it any less of a walking hot dog stand. He wasn't about to apologize for surviving, either. Wolves gotta eat.

The bull watched with mild amusement as the she-wolf turned up her nose at his presence. A low, throaty chuckle rumbled harmlessly in his chest as his brown eyes fixated upon the creature. Shoo? "Why would I wanna go and do that, missus?" All I asked is where the hot springs were, ain't nothin' get all upset about n' whatnot." he asked, head tilted upwards with flared nostrils. There was another wolf on the way, but before the hulking beast could pinpoint its location, the crusty old canine came barging in hollerin' about all sorts of things that would've made any proper lady blush from head to toe. "That ain't no way to talk to a lady, wolfin', why you gotta be like that?" It was then the older wolf charged him, and the elk stood paralyzed for a brief moment. "'Ey yo, old man, what you doin'?" The bull dropped his rack to joust with the wolf, though he had no intention on swinging and causing him any damage unless his pursuit continued.

They could've made a perfect picture of mutual contempt, the white wolfess with her nose turned skyward and the elk with his nostrils flaring as his head tipped back in kind. She was not hungry, and not stupid enough to make an attempt at a bull elk without assistance, and so he was nothing but a feature of the landscape to her, albeit one with a heavily accented manner of talking back. Which he did now, and much of what he said was so thickly veiled that she barely picked it up; she could make out "missus" and "upset", though she was too busy being amused that an elk, a prey animal, would refer to her as "missus" to really bring herself to spit venomous words at him a second time.

It was kind of like a human, being faced down with a sawed off shotgun, referring to it as "homie".

Of course, the peace that might've existed between predator and prey was rudely broken, as quite suddenly there arrived probably the ugliest wolf Jinx had ever seen. Having been born and raised in a pack of well-bred, fit warriors, fat was as unsightly to her as the thought of no fur whatsoever, and so she watched with evident disgust the swaying of his gut as he approached. He gave no introduction, and Jinx may have been content to ignore him too, but the second he opened his mouth, her ire was redirected abruptly from the elk to himself, for he dared to insult her.

Him! He was as crusty as they came, likely arthritic and incapable of any skillful movement, and yet he had the audacity to run his mouth to a perfectly fit, young female wolf who was, for all intents and purposes, easily superior to him in all ways except age? Even as he crassly thought to command her, the wily Kesuk had turned on him, and her lips were peeling back in a dangerous display of warning and hatred; the pink of her gums and the flash of her tongue across bared teeth more than enough of a sign that he best shut the fuck up, or he'd lose the ability to say another word again. The fur along her spine had risen into thousands of stiff peaks, and her tail lashed at the air over her haunches; it was a fearsome display of her prowess and superiority, and a clear warning to him.

Maverick, it seemed, was equally put off, for he was quick to scuttle back and lower his rack to intercept the old wolf's charge; it was comical, really, that the elk reacted at all, for if Jinx had to estimate, the old geezer probably couldn't have chased him more than a kilometre before his hefty weight and his brittle bones forced him into submission to his age. She reckoned if the bull so wanted he could kill the old man, and secretly hoped he did; nobody called her a six-tit imbecile on the assumption he would receive help from her. If anything, the former Mambo was most inclined to help the elk in this situation, despite her contempt for his haughty appearance; and in fact, she was mere seconds from doing so.

Had Maverick not been an animal of prey, and Gramps not a predator that would naturally eat such a one, he would have never had such a clash. In fact, had Gramps not been such a foul-mouthed, foul-minded jerk, they might have been great friends. But all that says is that it's hard for insulting jerks to make friends.

"Hurry up and get in my belly!", he responded to the elk. "What do you expect? 'Sorry that you talk but I regret to announce that I must eat you? Ain't no one got time for that! There's only time to apologize when you're dead!", he took note of the array of spikes presented to his advance and tried to run around the Elk in order to attack his rear end. He tried to rake his front claws into the beast's hips or thighs. How did one eat an elephant? One bite at a time. Perhaps he could weary it to death... Or perhaps bleed it out, that might work.

The wolf to whom he sputtered insults of varying offense levels said nothing and flashed her teeth. "My, what big teeth you have!", he gasped in mockery as he replayed a line from some fairy tale or other. "What's with everyone around here being mute!", he ranted to himself, adding to the list of names he called Jinx. "If you're not going to help yourself you know, eat, then do something useful! Show me your knockers! Do a preppy cheer! Or you could just stand there and get trampled!", he attempted to lunge at the Elk in such a way hoping that it would ramble closer to stepping on Jinx.

ooc: I am so dead from laughter xDD

ic: As surprised as he was that the woman didn't pounce on the opportunity to eat his insides, Maverick hardly let his guard down. A predator insane enough to take on a healthy, hefty hunk of elk with a massive set of spindly daggers sharpened to perfection, was probably more capable then he let on. Or very stupid. Judging by his scattered - albeit colorful - language skills, Maverick was leaning very heavily towards senile. Was he seeing things, or did he honestly believe that he would simply lay down and wait to be devoured? "Man, you's a funny little fella," he chortled, jerking his head upwards a few inches to warn the geezer away. His senses had already alerted him to the female's unkind reaction, but for the time being she seemed to be the least of his worries. The bull swung his haunches away from the elderly male, head still lowered defensively. There may have been a scratch or two from the wolf's valiant efforts, but nothing that caused any great deal of pain or distracted him from the amusement of the moment. Instead of staggering towards the female as intended, Maverick bolted towards the male in a bluff to startle him away. "Come on, little fella, yer embarrasin' yerself in front of the nice lady!"

She watched the ridiculous play in silence, her body a bristlebrush from tip of nose to tip of tail, awaiting one more word from the senile old fool's mouth. Gramps didn't disappoint, first addressing the elk with demands that, if understood, likely would've elicited the laughter and humility of Maverick's entire herd, and then rounding on her. She needed only to hear "what big teeth" to fly into action; her lithe body shot forward like a bullet, with nary a sound from her peeled lips but for the huffing of her breath as she bolted. She was, for a split second, confused about the term "knockers" -- and someday she would be certain to ask somebody what that might've referred to -- but it did not deter her from her course.

At about the same time, the elk made his daring dash toward Gramps, retaliating verbally with some garbled speech that Jinx scarcely understood but took as a suggestion to the elder wolf, but by the time he finished she had reached the man's haunch. She lunged, landing a soft blow on his side, given how light she was and her relative lack of physical strength, but that was enough. Gramps, apparently put off by the elk's disobedience and Jinx's lack of cooperation, was pushed to departing, though not without a string of expletives and rude comments. Her fury sated for the time being, the Kesuk stood by and watched him go, breathing hard.

Her attention then turned to Maverick, and while she was still disinterested in him -- he was too large and strong to be her meal and yet, he was a herbivore, and therefore no friend -- she showed him a newfound respect. Her tail flagged at her hocks to signal it, and she even went so far as to pull her ears back in deference. You are a fool, elk, she addressed him, unsure if he would understand, but if you must be a fool, then you are a very brave fool.

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