Firestone Hot Springs go down to the gallows at midnight

She flipped between tones with the experience of someone keen on keeping up an appearance, or so he thought. Gods forbid she let on that she had something to bother her, though admittedly he imagined that list was a short one. But like a duck to water, the change of tones rolled off like water, and he persisted in their easterly trek towards the river. Crassly, he considered telling her to see to it herself, but the ever burdened gentleman—if he could have been considered such—did not rest well with leaving her company.

"Wherever my head rests for a spell is home enough for me," he commented, not daring to discover how she may take that. For as social as they were, those who purposely set themselves apart were strange. But they existed, those particular, peculiar dispersals. The she-wolf seemed smart enough to draw her own conclusions from that.

"But I presume your home mustn't be far off from here, yes? Unless you too are the sort who doesn't like to trouble themselves with staying confined to one particular place." She was out ranging in the evening, alone, though she had seemed better kept than the likes of himself and Nyx.