Firestone Hot Springs he is risen

He coughed and gagged for a few minutes, stumbling away from one of the larger pools and carefully - if a bit awkwardly - trying to step around any smaller ones that rose up in his path as he attempted to escape. Once he managed to find a pocket of clean air he drank from it greedily, taking deep breaths that made him feel a little bit light-headed; but it was enough to clear his system of the worst of the sulfur smell. Firefly still felt queasy as he surveyed his surroundings, but when he heard someone calling to him he froze and swayed, looking for the origin point of the voice.

The small red shape nearby caught his attention; without thinking about the air quality (or the scent quality of his own body) he lurched to his feet and roamed closer, closer, closer, until he was coming up on the stranger's position. She didn't seem phased by the smell as much as he was; perhaps Firefly had become so accustomed to sea brine that anything more pungent was --- well, pungent. Too strong for him.

Warm water? He repeated, and scrunched his nose. I was just --- oommf, I was checking out the pools, yeah. But the smell is --- you don't smell that? Or... Is that not the worst smell you have ever -- ahhmm, smelled? Talking made things worse; the air entered his sinuses and crept across his tongue, and he thought he could taste the sulfur in the air the more he tried to communicate. The man huffed a few times, and then tried to clarify: I haven't gotten close enough to test the -- guhh -- the water, its so... Ughhhh.