they say she's a floatin' hell

The water that weaved between the trees, drifted over her toes, still held some of the warmth of the hot springs in it. Modesty strolled along, taking in the scenery. It was a nice part of the southern lands, she had to admit. The draping canopies of the willows danced in the autumn breeze, parting to reveal the secluded spaces underneath the trees. Even now, the grass remained lush and green underfoot, probably on account of the warm water nourishing the area, it also carried less of the sulfuric scent that the water held further to the north.

Modesty slipped behind one of the curtains of the willows, nose lowering to the ground to sniff at the moss that grew there, it didn't seem to have anything special about it, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

“Speech.”