Unbothered by the sulfurous stink, Urna picked her way through clouds of steam. She drew to an abrupt halt when one of the pools burbled loudly and took a few respectful steps back. A spray of hot water erupted, spattering back down on the rocks like scalding rain. Across the landscape, other white plumes shot up intermittently. Puddles of thick mud bubbled as she passed. Mats of color ringed the hottest pools; Urna gave these a wide berth as she stepped down the side of a caldera into the cluster of springs she'd been seeking.
The night had been cold, but where the steam blew at the edge by the river, it left a damp shadow of melted snow on the ground, the grasses, the nearby trees. Approaching one of the springs, Urna lowered her head and sniffed, whiskers brushing the cloudy surface of the water. Not dangerously hot. She dipped her tongue in the water of the pool, crinkling her muzzle at the mineral tang. That's the one, all right. Unslinging her bag, she reached in—and happened to glance up right as the steam thinned.
There was a wolf in the river across from her. And not just any wolf. Urna took in the red fur, the flash of blue scales at her throat. Enya. Even as her hackles rose, she felt an unexpected twinge of—eagerness? excitement?—some sort of anticipation in her belly. Withdrawing from the water's edge, Urna skirted the pool to trot towards the warm-water river. Her lips peeled back in an expression halfway between snarl and sneer. "Duskorna," she called as she approached, scanning the tree line to be certain they were alone. "Long way from home, aren't you?"
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Quick perception check:
Success: Urna's confident that Enya's here alone.
Failure: Hard to tell with the steam and the smells and the sounds. Could be more Duskornans just out of sight.
The night had been cold, but where the steam blew at the edge by the river, it left a damp shadow of melted snow on the ground, the grasses, the nearby trees. Approaching one of the springs, Urna lowered her head and sniffed, whiskers brushing the cloudy surface of the water. Not dangerously hot. She dipped her tongue in the water of the pool, crinkling her muzzle at the mineral tang. That's the one, all right. Unslinging her bag, she reached in—and happened to glance up right as the steam thinned.
There was a wolf in the river across from her. And not just any wolf. Urna took in the red fur, the flash of blue scales at her throat. Enya. Even as her hackles rose, she felt an unexpected twinge of—eagerness? excitement?—some sort of anticipation in her belly. Withdrawing from the water's edge, Urna skirted the pool to trot towards the warm-water river. Her lips peeled back in an expression halfway between snarl and sneer. "Duskorna," she called as she approached, scanning the tree line to be certain they were alone. "Long way from home, aren't you?"
------
Quick perception check:
Success: Urna's confident that Enya's here alone.
Failure: Hard to tell with the steam and the smells and the sounds. Could be more Duskornans just out of sight.