Gushing Geyser — [AW} A Spray of Light

"Perhaps but I suspect I would know yours from a crowd," Larkspur remarked, glancing toward the burbling geyser. This little one didn't seem to go off as frequently as the ones around it which was good, or else wolf and serval alike would be a great deal damper. More importantly to Larkspur though, it meant they only had to step a bit into the drizzling remnants of a shower for a moment to finally chase the bee now buzzing annoyingly on their shoulders having danced between two of their flowers off to wherever it deigned to visit next. They huffed with satisfaction - then immediately muttered an apology to poor Folke who had not consented to getting wet for the moment, though the serpent did at least seem to understand where the wolf was coming from. "I am certainly not opposed," Larkspur agreed with a light laugh. "Take as many blossoms as you want - and perhaps a meal. I do warn you though I am an unusual wolf: I don't settle for long. Presently I am exploring northward, I intend to follow this river to its source and when I get there... find another river and follow it out I think." That would be fun now that they were considering it out loud - following rivers in and out. Rivers went everything, brought you to everyone practically. It would be a brilliant way to see as much of the land as possible and the neatest possible method for avoiding confusion while they were still in the midst of attempting to map things out. They shook their head a little, attempting to peer through the hanging mist, ear flicking in mild annoyance - they had known it would be foggy and vision would be fairly obscured when they saw the hotsprings and the plumes of white steam floating into the air but they had to admit, they'd only landed so late in the day in the hopes that the sun would have burned most of it off. Clearly though they were wrong. "It isn't a problem - I certainly grow more than enough for any collector," Larkspur chuckled, adopting something of a slightly more serious expression as they explained. Folke twisted around, stretching out toward the serval now pressed into Larkspur's legs to offer a curiously flitting tongue and tilted head that unknowingly mirrored the wolf it was draped across. "It's not a fun feeling but I am rather unfortunately used to it - sometimes they get caught on branches or twisted while I'm laying down. At times a bird will deign that I carry perfect nesting material and so on. It hurts but it's a hurt I'm long used to - if anything, it's nice to experience it of my own will for once." --- Text. Speech. Thoughts.