[u][b]Ettamri, Oscar, Siwon, Katya[/b][/u]
[color=6ecff6]“Yeah, I did say that!” [/color]Katya crossed her arms and turned her head away from the steaming butt-skewers. [color=6ecff6]“And we only had, like, two meals during the trip anyways, so that’s basically not even competition.”[/color] It looked as if she was adamant on winning this conversation. Before she could become a weakling like all those other butt-eaters, the small priest stood up and stomped over to the packs, rummaging for some deliciously dry hardtack to accompany her boiled snow with. With that meal in hand, she stomped back and started eating with ferocious gusto. Who cared how good the meat smelled? All meat smelled good, but not all meat was poop. Crunching the (painfully) crusty bread, Katya looked towards Oscar again, then towards Ettamri.

[color=6ecff6]“Why even volunteer anyways? Not like there’s anything you can handle that Ettamri can’t.”[/color] Yes, that was the angle. [color=6ecff6]“Go with the others. It’s a girl’s night out at the campfire now.”[/color]

Meanwhile, divorced from this masterful display of debate, Siwon’s religious ritual bore its fruit after a quiet minute of meditation and contemplation. Slowly, the crimson lines etched into the snow began to burn, an obsidian flame searing the mark deeper into the ground. Beside him, that yellow demon of his convulsed, its spindly limbs spasming as its potbelly inflated like a balloon. There was no longer any light in its eyes, just the fire of a predator-god’s gaze. The demon’s stomach burst open, a maw of razor-sharp fangs stretching out and collapsing upon the ritual circle. A crick, a crunch, and the task was done. Nothing remained of Siwon’s ceremony but the marks of the curved fangs against the snow.

The demon, its form and personality restored, let out an obnoxious burp. [color=fff79a]“Kekeke, good-quality meat for once, Wonsi~ Maybe you should change from Wolf to Vulture, picking up what scraps that warrior leaves behind, hmm?”[/color]

[u][b]Argen, Renauld, Muu, Tithemal[/b][/u]
As Argen and Renauld strode further up the hill, they too were wrapped in the warm, humid steam that emanated from the springs. Tithemal’s form could be seen cutting a powerful silhouette through the mist, and discretion got the better of the two: for all the mercy shown by the Dragon’s Dervish, it still wasn’t a comfortable proposition for them to bathe right beside the orc. They stripped by the weeping rocks instead, fabrics peeled off the skin for the first time in a long while. A bitter wind sliced through the springs, causing goosebumps to shoot up their arms, but any chill was soon alleviated; the bros eased themselves into the hot tub, and were immediately warmed. It was good fortune that Renauld, despite being a bookworm mage, still kept himself in relatively good shape. There was no body envy between the two: Argen was a beefy warrior with well-defined biceps and pecs, Renauld had a well-proportioned physique and abs that stood out due to a low body-fat percentage. Like that, they lounged. It was doubtful that any wild animal would attack them here. Tithemal’s deadly aura would thwart all but the most mad beasts.

Eventually, their gaze was drawn towards their other party member, Muu. Neck-deep in the waters, the Blade Dancer’s eyes were blissfully closed, enjoying the warmth that seeped from beneath the mountain. The heat of the springs had drawn color out of her pale complexion, a rosy red blooming on her cheeks. Even with the waters shrouding some of her form, it was still evident to both men that the raven-haired girl was incredibly enticing. Rest had removed the deathly gaze she usually held, while in the absence of heavy fabrics and hard leather, her graceful build showed off just how exotic and slender she was. Romance between party members usually didn’t end up well, but damn, was Muu objectively hot.

…

Well, up to the point where the two of them realized that, far from just enjoying the springs, Muu had simply fainted. Then it was just an ‘oh shit do we do something’ moment, while Tithemal, on his side of the springs, chewed on something bloody, his lower canines jutting out in amusement.