Firestone Hot Springs how to feel the heat

Anyone!

Goldhawk's joints were as stiff as a stone in a desert. Normally he was agile and fluid, but due to his spell in the chill (one that had very nearly killed him), he currently felt as if he'd aged four years, and he wasn't back to looking like his usual dapper self either. He was a little sleeker than he was yesterday, his golden fur almost back to its old sheen, but he still felt somewhat surprised that Eshe had accepted him into Neverwinter given his state. So the moment he found his legs, Goldhawk was out on a patrol of the borders. It was slow going, and he still had a faint limp thanks to frostbite, but he was a tenacious chap. He even went beyond the borders in order to limp his way to a higher vantage point — from here he could see the dusk-covered forest behind him, but also what looked like hot springs up ahead. How very tempting...

Sage was still recovering from the stress she went through when Malice was off speaking to Burke, and she had to control Moonlit on her own, only days since her being crowned Beta had she received this responsibility, and while she took it with pride, the time being alone was difficult. She hadn't slept at all, on alert in case Dark Brotherhood sent others to sniff out their new pack, and they held the upper hand. While her pack obtained wonderful fighters, their neighbors would be more prepared for a fight.

But, finally, Malice had returned and all was in order just as before. Needing a break, she moved towards the hot springs. Them being away from the pack, and a more beautiful, relaxing scene. Perhaps this wouldn't have been so stressful if she wasn't a lone wolf her whole life, only depending on herself, only surviving for herself, but in the small time Moonlit had been around, she was already handed much to do, which was fine of course, but definitely difficult to adjust to. She hadn't noticed the other wolf, not being nearly as wary as she once was, mainly focusing on her chance to relax.

While he was scouting out the Plateau anyway — where he'd unfortunately found nothing of note — Cicero decided to make his way through the hot springs while he journeyed further to the west. He was unable to pass through Neverwinter Forest, finding that it now held a claim, and so Cicero decided to instead travel along the hot springs. And while he was here, perhaps some relaxation was in order.

There was another wolf there, a female. The scent of Malice wafted towards him even across the comforting, steamy scent of the springs, and Cicero chuffed to announce his presence to her. "Wolf of Malice," Cicero called out to her and he trotted towards her, quickening his pace somewhat. She looked tired, or perhaps she was simply preparing for the delightful hot water to sink into. "May Cicero join in relaxation?" Malice intrigued him and so her wolves did too. There was a mischievous sparkle in Cicero's eyes and a charismatic smile on his face, and he hoped that she would say yes and that they could sink into the warmth of a pool of water together soon. So focussed on her was he that Cicero did not even notice the third wolf that was headed straight towards them.

Goldhawk was torn between continuing his patrol of the borders and proceeding into the neighbouring land so that he could search for any signs of lone wolves or spies. He stood tall, one ear twitching a little as he swiftly thought through the benefits of each — and then he made up his mind when he caught scent of another Neverwinter wolf to the Southeast. It seemed another patroller was on this route too, and this convinced Goldhawk that it was safe for him to let his sense of duty lead him beyond the border to see if there was anything there that might threaten the fledgling pack.

It was quickly clear from the unseasonal heat of the pretty area that a hotspring sprung nearby, but the smell of sulphur made it more obvious than ever. His poncey nose twitched with a mixture of distaste and curiosity, and he was slightly surprised to see the sudden appearace of two wolves — one ebony and gosh darn pretty, the other a small-sized mash of black and white. Both were young, and both unfamiliar. Two wolves so close to the borders of Neverwinter... this was a situation worth noting, but hardly a threat. So Goldhawk was his usual amiable self, and of course the first thing he commented on was the smell. Oh my dizzy aunt, please tell me that wretched smell is the sulphur. You two young 'uns don't look anywhere near as whiffy.

Sage was taken aback when a wolf od Dark Brotherhood approached her, mainly because the smell of the hot springs took up most of her sense of smell. She was unsure how to act around him, having just been keeping her pack from such wolves, but it was rare for her to lash out on a stranger, unlike Issun a friend of hers. His presence only made her tightened her muscles a bit, but gave a simple smirk in return to his charming smile. He didn't seem to be much of a threat so she would handle this with friendliness. He had spoken of himself in third person, making her tilt her head in curiosity, "You may," she granted, with a nod of the head. She hadn't spoken her name, u sure how to bring it up, since he had said his in a strange way.

It was even more unexpected when another wolf had joined the two, he held an unfamiliar scent but it was obvious he was in a pack. She felt uncomfortable not knowing if there was another pack nearby, but that was a subject to worry about later. The males comment made her smile a bit more. "I'd hope it's not either of us," she said, flicking her tail back and forth.

She accepted his offer gracefully, but before they could dip themselves into the pools of relaxation another wolf appeared. Cicero glanced in their direction and exchanged a quick look with the wolf of Malice to see if she knew who this wolf was. There was no recognition upon her face, so he guessed them to be strangers to one another. Sulphur. Interesting. With a toothy grin Cicero turned and started towards one of the pools that surrounded them.

His thin fur already made him rather raggedy looking, but when Cicero dipped himself into the pool he looked even more starved. He looked over invitingly at his two companions (he did not fear the male's presence much in the presence of one of Malice's wolves), and said: "Introductions seem suited." He looked at both wolves before offering his own introduction: "Cicero, of Blackfeather Woods."

Everything seemed quite friendly. While not naive, Goldhawk was amicable by nature, and inclined to go with the flow when things were light. So while he was quietly ready for any change of tone, given that these were two strange wolves not too far away from the borders of Neverwinter, he was hardly on edge. Peace could quite happily lead the way. Nice, springy, stinky peace.

You can call me Goldhawk, my unstinky chaparoos, he said, and at this point finally placed his attention on the water. He moved closer to the edge, but didn't get in. Ooh, it was tempting though. Are you both from packs nearby, or have you toddled on over from hither and yon?

Sage followed after the darker one of the males, the water not making her seem weaker, but if anything enhancing the amount of muscle hidden by her skinny frame. Her fur keeping any proof of her strength, and only outlining that she was skinny. Cicero had restated his name, and the other was Goldhawk. "Sage," She said simply, her muscles relaxed with the hot water up against her, tension releasing from all her stress. Cicero seemed to already know she was on of Moonlit and her mind jumped to what Malice had told her of a trespasser from Dark Brotherhood, she received no more information but was curious if  this was the scout.

"I'm from Moonlit Hill, not very far away from the hot springs."  She was well aware of her more aggressive neighbors, at least in her experience, but the pack that Goldhawk had come from leaded to a blank, then again she did only know two packs in Teekon only just arriving a few months ago.

Introductions were given, and Cicero made sure to stay away from the male, sticking closest to Sage. He felt safer in her presence, knowing there was nothing she could do to harm him in this situation but to aide the male, which was unlikely since they did not know each other. Goldhawk asked for their packs but did not share his, which was a curious thing to Cicero.

However, he repeated what he had said upon introduction, "Blackfeather Woods." He looked inquisitively at Goldhawk, for his pack was yet unknown; Cicero had not treaded close enough to him before they entered the hot springs for him to catch any scent. None familiar, anyway.

"Does Sage enjoy living in Malice's pack?" asked Cicero, genuinely curious. He waited for her answer while relaxing somewhat in the hot pool, still staying on the other end of it than Goldhawk was.

Sage was a prim and mysterious name, and it suited her midnight fur and smooth tones. She gave quite a satisfactory answer, and he made a mental note of Moonlit Hill and its relative proximity. Similar with Blackfeather Woods, but the youngster didn't elaborate on where it was, and it wasn't clear if this was on purpose or not. Ah well, he didn't want to push it. The one key downside was that he couldn't really pick up their unique scents over the smell of the springs — which, incidentally, he continued to avoid for now. But he did take a seat on the bank.

Cicero was another mysterious name, and it slightly made him want to burst into song. But he resisted for now, and instead obliged with: Neverwinter Woods is where I've been resting my fuzzy behind — a home with just as handsome a name as your own abodes, albeit a tad less moonlit and feathery, wot. But don't let me jabber on like a rabid squirrel, he continued, jabbering on like a rabid squirrel, you've got me all intrigued about this delightful-sounding 'Malice'.

Both of the wolves had spoken strangely, a smile resulted in their ways of speaking and she tilted her head with curiosity in the two. She was aware Circeo lived in Blackfeather, but Goldhawk didn't elaborate much further into his home. "I do very much," She looked at the younger male. "But the role of Beta has it's amount of stress." The dark fae admitted, shifting slightly in the water. She then adverted her eyes towards the older male, and flicked her tail a bit. "Malice is the Alpha of Moonlit." 

"Do you enjoy your packs?" She questioned, not having the any thought of bringing them into her own, just curious what their opinions were. Hopefully they both were fond of their packs.

Goldhawk luckily did not enter the pools, which put Cicero to ease. He listened to both wolves as they spoke -- Goldhawk in a poetic sort of way that intrigued Cicero -- and Sage answered Goldhawk's question already. That was all there was to Malice, unless one would take the effort and time to actually meet her themselves.

As for the question, Cicero said, "Cicero was born in Blackfeather Woods." The fact that he was still there said enough about his enjoyment in his pack, really. He could not help but ask, "Where is Goldhawk from, and do all wolves speak the way he does over there?" Because he was still intrigued by Goldhawk's speech and he wondered if it was a thing all wolves there did. He knew that it wasn't the case in his case, but he had his reasons, and it was different.

It seemed Goldhawk had much to learn about these parts, and was content to learn it. Chummy though this meeting was, he was in the process of protecting Neverwinter's borders, and that involved checking out any so-and-sos who were wandering nearby. So he thought of this stinky encounter as work as well as play, their conversation being nice and chatty as well as an exchange of knowledge. Ah, we have a bit of nobility among us! he acknowledged Sage's high rank, and gave her a little nod of respect.

He was rather keen to learn more about this bizarrely named Malice sort, but it would be rude to skip the question posed by Cicero, who was oddly adorable and adorably odd. Most of us from the Ole Rip do indeedy speak with a fancy bit of "how do" and "hi-de-ho", but I see it as speaking with Ps and Qs and a proper strain of annunciation. Not that you two speak improperly, of course, he added politely.

Sage felt out of place and odd, even though if anyone here was odd it was the other two. She'd never met such strange speaking wolves, but being the only one who spoke "normal" she felt abnormal. For a second she considered speaking in some original way but knew it was far too late with presenting her ways of voice. His comment on her rank made her smile, and nod her head in return. She had no desire to be looked at as higher, these three were all separated by packs, so truthfully their ranks meant nothing. Fortunately, Goldhawk never shifted his stance to a more submissive one giving her comfort in the strangers—even if she spoke differently.

She felt Cierico a bit endearing with his way of speaking, practically cute with his small almost unhealthy frame. Goldhawk on the other hand seemed formally informal, which she took a particular liking towards. The two were different, each holding fetching qualities. "Interesting," the dark girl commented. "How long have your packs been around?"

'The Ole Rip'; even the name was picturesque. Cicero was interested to hear more, but for now decided to keep his distance and acknowledged the words with no more than a nod. He looked at Sage again as she asked how long their packs had been about. Cicero answered, "Cicero was born in Blackfeather Woods." That said enough; truthfully he wasn't even entirely sure how long Blackfeather'd been around before he had been born into it. He knew enough of the appearing and disappearing of a variety of packs however to know that since he was a born was pretty much forever or at least a really long time in terms of what she was asking. He turned to look at the other with interest then. He'd not heard of the pack before, so maybe it was new?

lol that moment when you're chattering amiably with a lovely Cicero then he turns up with a full-on "SPY" title, whistling innocently~

Ever since leaving The Ole Rip, Goldhawk had realised he was the odd one out (albeit to quite a jolly extent), but he had gotten used to that pretty fast and it had never bothered him anyway. But here he wasn't so different, simply because they were all different in a variety of ways. Cicero was a mini pirate fellow who spoke like a flummoxed soothsayer, and Sage was a floaty shadow spirit who played second-in-command to the apparent personification of evil intent.

The posse at Neverwinter is as new as a fletching sparrow, but I'd say far from unseasoned, he settled on. The key wolves of Neverwinter had old blood in these lands, and were far from inexperienced. Blackfeather Woods sounded like it might be similar, and he wondered why he hadn't heard of it so far. He supposed it must be fairly peaceful.

So... are these springs really as jolly relaxing as they seem? he asked, eyeing the hot waters suspiciously.

Sage looked down at the warm bath her and Cicero had taken for heat and relief, and back at Goldhawk. "I'd say so." She was already feeling more relaxed and content than she had been before, but that just the work of the springs but also the two wolves her joined her. They had taken her mind off her worries and was thankful, yet it'd be unlikely for her to thank them allowed. Placing the warmer colored wolf's words together, she concluded that Neverwinter was in fact, new. Moonlit was as well, it being around a bit longer than a month now, while definitely not being younger than his pack.

also working on Ambassador, so you never know which Cicero you get! :P

At the mention of the seasoned nature of Neverwinter Forest, Cicero curiously asked, "Neverwinter Forest's wolves have been around the Teekon for long, then?" That was the only conclusion he thought to draw from the words, but he needed confirmation to be sure.

As Goldhawk asked about the water, Cicero instantly started to leave the water, afraid he would get too close. He seemed friendly and reliable so far, but one could never be too sure. "Cicero should go," he said and he shook his sleek fur. There was little left of him, all wet, with ribs showing and bony build poking out on all sides. He nodded at both wolves before he slipped off into the Wilds, intending to go home and hopefully his fur would dry while he made his way there.

^___^

He was tempted by the springs and their intoxicating warmth, but it felt a bit too casual given that he was in a more professional mode right now. But he nodded to Cicero in the affirmative, deciding it'd be a bit arbitrary to elaborate. The truth was, he didn't know how many of Neverwinter's wolves had been in the region long — all he knew was that some had.

When Cicero abruptly announced his departure, he provided Goldhawk with another reason not to sample the springs. It would be most inappropriate to cosy in alone with an unknown beauty, especially from another pack. He was still in Guardian-mode, and turned down the idea post haste. Farewell to you, Cicero, the bard said in something of a sing-song voice. And then, once the little wolf was out of hearing range, Goldhawk added playfully to Sage: now that he's scarpered, it would be ludicrous of us not to talk about him, wot wot.

"Goodbye," She spoke simply, it was strange to see him leave to abruptly, and with his departure Goldhawk seemed to have made up his mind on whether or not to enter the hot spring; that being a no.  Which she didn't mind, just more space for herself then. With Goldhawks invitation to speak of Cicero, she quickly took it. "What an odd thing he is." In truth she found the two both rather odd, the older male in a more charming sense, and Cicero in a more compelling one. 

"Where do you think he got all those scars?" It wasn't difficult to see them, all being rather obvious agaisnt his fur. Which the ebony girl envied, she only possessed one scar on her back leg, and it was almost always covered. She wanted to show it off, present it as an award that she had lived through something.

A charismatic oddity indeed, he said of Cicero. Oh Goldhawk was a warrior and bard entirely, of course, but that didn't mean he avoided a good gossip with the fellow troops. Sage was more of a lovely new acquaintance than a fellow troop, sure, but he was enjoying this regardless.

Hmm, he mused at Sage's interesting question, his brown eyes peering out towards the foliage through which Cicero had disappeared. The chap looks more like a scholar than a warrior, but who can tell? I've seen smaller beasts than him rip up the battlefield — why, my pipsqueakiest sister could give even the heftiest vermin the old one-two! The likeliest answer was that Cicero had been attacked by someone, and not on the battlefield, but it wasn't the first answer that sprang to Goldhawk's mind. Instead, he liked to imagine that Cicero had got his scars as a result of being an unlikely champion.

She nodded in agreement. Cicero didn't seem the fighting type, and to what she could tell he didn't seem very aggressive. When it came to fight or flight, he was likely to choose flight. Sage felt the heat to become a bit overwhelming to her skin, so she pulled herself out of the hot spring and shook her pelt in attempt to be drier. Her ears lowered when realizing she could have hit him with water. Finally, the yearling Beta wasn't so stressed, she gave Goldhawk a smile. "Thank you for your time," Truthfully she was rather thankful to the charismatic fellow, he'd distracted her from her duties and allowed her to relax. Though, now it was time to return to such burden—if she could call it that. 

"I hope to be seeing you around, Goldhawk." This was true, seeing more of him would be a good, if not great, thing. He was kind to her, and that she was very gracious to.

ty for the thread!

Pleasure, marm, he replied with what may as well have been a tip of a hat, and they parted on good terms. It seemed the young guardian had been successful in his border patrol, given that his nose had led him to the strangers just beyond it and turned them into acquaintances. With that done, he resisted the hotsprings and returned to a more conventional patrol.