for @Revui
praimfaya has ventured further than she meant to, departing the canyon in the early vestiges of morning while the rain was slowed to a sprinkle; yearning for something other than slick redrock and damp sand. she isn't overly sure of the tactics behind choosing the canyon other than they were chased from the ravensblood and it was, obviously, second choice. she isn't overly fond of it, in truth; though she hasn't had a fondness for a territory since broken antler fen. an attachment that might've had everything to do with the fact that it was her's and everything else thus far has not been.
despite the soupy heat and veil of steam that surfaces from the pools of water that cause her nose to wrinkle in disgust: there is something calming about the springs that praimfaya could not, even if asked, put her paw on. she feels her muscles loosen and is tempted, for a brief moment, to slip in one of the steaming springs. it is the rancid smell of sulfur that ultimately keeps the worst of her curiosity at bay.
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