The metro-bus roars to life, gliding forward smoothly. Beside me, Scourge snores quietly, his eyebrows twitching in his sleep. I struggle to stay awake, keeping myself in an uncomfortable position, but despite that my eyelids still feel as though they weigh hundreds of pounds. Sighing, I shake my head vigorously, trying to somehow jostle my brain into a more awake state, but to no avail. I really just need some coffee or something, I think to myself with a groan, rubbing my eyes. I look around at the car, deciding to keep my mind occupied by analyzing the people and things around me. Each tram car has four doors--two on each side--that only open outward. The doors bear windows on them, presumably so that if you stand near them you can look into the station you're about to get off at. Plus, it'd be a bit of a shock if you were standing in front of a door and it suddenly opened to a wall of people--I've seen how crowded these vehicles can get.

Taking a deep breath, I focus my attention on a man sitting in the corner across from us. His head is buried in a newspaper from earlier this week; beside him sits a dark beige briefcase. He's wearing an official-looking suit, but the ankles are a bit rumpled; upon closer inspection, I see dog hairs sticking out of them, with small scratches made by tiny, well-manicured nails. So, he has at least one small dog--no, more than one, given the magnitude of mess made--that he left rather recently. Turning my gaze towards his hands, I notice his short nails and permanently-bent fingers. They bear no callouses, meaning that he works indoors; given the short yet well-kept nails and smooth fingertips combined with the damaged knuckles, I'd estimate that he works at a desk job, probably something in I.T., and he obviously works the night shift. My estimation of his profession is assured when he closes the newspaper for a moment to turn the pages--his eyes are slightly bloodshot and tinted yellowish, indicating chronic dry-eye and a possible allergy to his dogs. Perhaps the dogs are his significant other's. After all, who would own dogs that they were allergic to? Caught in the moment, I lean forward, resting my right elbow on my knees, cradling my chin with my hand. He's middle-aged, heavy set, but not exactly unhealthy. He probably tries to exercise whenever he can, but he isn't given much of a chance to. Furrowing my brow, I concentrate a little harder. His suit is a dark blue with lighter blue stripes, and he wears a plain white collared shirt under it, but his tie is dark reddish purple. Frowning, I shake my head. Those two shades don't go together--and neither go with your yellowish undertone, I think at him, despite the fact that I know he can't hear me.

To my surprise, however, he looks up suddenly, confusion and indignation bleeding from him. I quickly slam my eyes shut, feigning sleep, until I hear him shuffle his newspaper and sense him relaxing. Easing one eye open, then the other, I glance around. Did that really just happen? A sick feeling weighs like a rock in the pit of my stomach, a mixture of apprehension and excitement. I knew Lightpaws had taught me to read others' emotions, sometimes even their thoughts (though only the ones on the surface), but putting thoughts in others' heads? How crazy is that? Shaking my head, I sit back up. There's only one way to find out, though. Training my eyes on the man again, I concentrate, trying to think 'at' him again: You need a more reddish toned suit, to match that tie, or a more blue tie to go with that suit. He jerks upright again and I deliberately look over at Scourge instead, heart pounding. I can hear his surface thoughts now; he's trying to figure out whether or not he's going crazy. Withdrawing into my own mind, I exhale. Alright, that's it, I'll leave the poor guy alone now... Looking down at myself, I realize that I'm trembling. I feel unstable, the ill sensation in my stomach going from a rocklike feeling to a boiling sea. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to relax, turning to stare at the floor in front of me instead. Calm down. Calm down. Closing my eyes, I hang my head, exhausted. I'm probably just sleep-deprived. Yeah, that's it. That's why this is the second time today I've started to freak out over nothing. I'm just low on energy.

Sitting up again, I take in air through my nose, exhaling out my mouth, to calm myself. The metro slows down, a robotic musical note signifying our stopping. "Hello, and welcome to AirTram, the fastest metro company in the world!" A voice boasts over the speaker as people get up. I tune it out, ignoring whatever the person is rambling on about; suddenly, something grabs my right arm and I stifle a yelp of surprise.

" 'S this our stop?" Scourge yawns, his alarm-filled voice groggy with sleep and his eyes only half-open. Behind me, the doors open, and people begin to exit and enter.

"If it was, I would've woken you," I sigh, irritated at him both for waking up and for scaring the crap out of me. Pulling his hand off my arm, I shove him gently. "Go back to sleep, idiot."

The doors close as he rubs his eyes, mumbling, "Nah, Stripes, you should sleep fer a bit, I'll keep an ear out for our stop." Sitting up, he yawns again, looking just as tired as when he fell asleep. The skin under his eyes is vaguely purplish, in fact, and even his voice sounded heavy and exhausted.

"No," I insist firmly, pushing him back to his corner. "I told you, I've got this. Now get some rest and stay asleep until I wake you up."

"Nahhh," he grumbles as his eyelids droop further, "I'm gonna stay....awake..." He trails off as he slips into unconsciousness, and I chuckle softly, shaking my head.

"Idiot," I snort, sitting up straight again. "So much for staying awake, huh." Looking back at the now slightly more occupied train car, I cross and uncross my legs, fidgeting to keep from falling asleep too. It's going to be a long ride.

------------------

"Hello, and welcome to the north side stop! This is our last stop for the evening before we turn around and head south again," a cheerful, fake-sounding human voice booms over unseen speakers as people shuffle, getting to their feet.

I blink dully, sitting up fully. Thank god I managed to stay awake this whole time, I think blearily, leaning over and shaking my green-furred friend. "Hey, Scourge," I growl, "get up, it's our stop."

"Hnngh?" He grunts, opening his eyes drowsily. Sitting up, he runs a hand across his face as I stand up.

"Hurry up, the doors'll open any minute," I gently pull him to his feet, and he stumbles for a moment, almost crashing into me. Startled, I step back a pace, and he manages to right himself, looking a little dazed. "Hey, what are you doing, sleepwalking?" I snap, glaring at him, a bit embarrassed. If he'd knocked into me, chances were we both would've fallen forward, and the last thing I want to do is publicly humiliate myself by falling on my face. "Get it together already."

"My bad, Stripes," he yawns, stretching. I snort in response as the doors glide open, and the two of us plod over to them and out, into the station. A wall of cold air smacks me in the face and I shiver involuntarily, eyeing the area we've stopped at. It looks almost identical to the station we left at, save for the amount of people there.

"Hmh," I remark, "the crowd thins in just 45 minutes?" Skeptical, I glance around nervously, trying to figure out why there are so few people here.

"The north end of the city's mainly residential," Scourge informs me, stepping up to my right. "Most people don't leave at this hour of night." Nudging me, he smirks cheerfully, a bit more energized from his nap. "So, Stripes, what's our game plan?" Someone behind us bumps into us, prompting me to start walking forward; my malachite-colored companion tails me closely despite the fact that there's barely a crowd here.

"Well," I reply, pulling the atlas out of my jacket for what feels like the millionth time, flipping to a page of train timetables for this area. Scowling, I realize something. "Crap," I growl.

"What?" Concerned, Scourge reads over my shoulder, his hair brushing my shoulder--the very definition of uncomfortably close. However, I choose to ignore that, instead answering his question.

"There aren't any trains that lead from here to our next city, Apotos," I groan. "And all the other trains take us way off our course. We have no choice but to either walk there or find a bus, and I don't have the bus timetables in here--apparently, they change too frequently."

"Whaaaaat?!" My neon green friend whines, frustrated. "Aw, man..."

"I know," I sigh, exhausted, running my right hand across the page to smooth it. "But, listen, let's just focus on finding some place to sleep for a bit." Closing the book, I glance upwards, scanning our surroundings. We've walked through the station in little to no time; currently, we're walking down a mostly abandoned hallway. Tile floors, smaller tile walls and ceiling with some stained wooden benches clinging to the edges of the path. Ahead of us, I can see stairs to the outdoors, letting in frigid gusts of wind from the outside.

"Well," Scourge bites his lip as we start up said stairs, "this place ain't have much in the way of shelter. We're probably gonna have to camp outside in an alleyway, unfortunately." He grits his teeth, grimacing.

"Honestly?" I turn and look at him. "I'd sleep on anything vaguely horizontal and not made entirely of hornets right now."

Laughing, my neon green amigo punches my arm. "Damn, that's funny," he replies between chuckles, "but unfortunately it's probably gonna be like that...How does concrete sound?"

"Like a pain in the ass," I sigh, looking back up. "But I'm probably too tired to care." Our feet click loudly against the tile stairs; my metal shoes clang loudly while his sneakers make peculiar squeaking noises when they grind against the steps. After a few minutes of plodding along, we finally reach the opening, and I stifle a gasp. All around us, flecks of white swirl, dancing along the air currents, glittering brightly and clearly in the city lights. My eyes widen as I stare at the scene before me.

The buildings, towering darkly against a deep indigo sky, contrast with the swirling masses of white powder tumbling down to fall on the humans' heads. Some hold umbrellas above their heads to block the falling beauty, others extend mitten-clad hands out to catch the flakes. Red and green and yellow lights reflect from the particles, twinkling and glimmering cheerfully. My breath wisps in vapors as my mouth falls open slightly, amazed by this wintry wonderland. Scourge glances over at me, looking amused. "What, you never seen snow before?"

So this is snow? "No," I breathe quietly, lifting one hand palm-up to catch a few flakes of the snow. "Not up close."

"What?!" Baffled, my green friend gapes at me. "I thought you traveled the world lookin' for your home!"

I lower my head with a smirk, looking at the snow gathering on my arms, extending them forward and rotating my wrists. "My home," I murmur--the idea still seems foreign to me. Lifting my head and dropping my arms, I breathe out my nose, the air twisting and curling away like smoke. "I remembered my home to be in a warmer climate, so I only searched the warmer areas of the world."

"If it's further north than this, it's clearly gotta winter season," he replies dryly, putting his hands in his pockets. He was starting to shiver, which prompts me to quit dawdling.

"You could be right," I reply, jamming my hands in my jacket as well. "Then again, you could be wrong." I lift my leg, wobbling for a moment, and then I start to walk forward at a steady pace, with a confused Scourge in tow. "My family...is a little unusual. To say the least. So it's possible that my home is in a permanently pleasant climate." Turning to look over my shoulder, I grin at him. "Which makes it pretty tough to find. I'm just grateful I remember the name."

A smile flashes across his face, mirroring mine. "Glad to see that the snow's put you in such a good mood," he comments, catching up with me.

"It's beautiful," I reply, looking at the snow on the ground. A smile dances across my face. The snow is the same tone as Rouge's fur, the same near-perfect crystalline shade of pure white. The thought makes me blush slightly, remembering how fun she is to be around. I miss her a bit, even if she is unbearable sometimes, but traveling with Scourge has been just as cool.

"Yeah," my punk friend replies, interrupting my thoughts. "It looks great, sure, but damn, is it cold!" Shivering, he pulls his arms close to him, trying to preserve body heat.

"Hmm," I muse aloud, looking around. "If we can find an alleyway out of the wind and snow, we might be able to sleep without worrying about freezing to death, but we really should get inside if possible."

"There's a few homeless shelters 'round here," Scourge suggests, "but I dunno if they'd accept us since we're not humans. This city ain't got a lot of our species, so there's no specific homeless shelters for us."

My nose wrinkles, my pride ruffled by the idea of having to spend the night in a charity facility. "We'll work something out, I'm sure." I answer blandly, flicking my ears under my hoodie. Rolling my shoulders, I try and stretch a bit--I didn't realize how stiff the tram ride had made me. Sitting for forty-five minutes on those uncomfortable chairs, as well as the fact that I spent all my time deliberately making my position more difficult to relax into, has taken a bit of a toll on me. We stop at the corner of a street, and I whip out the mapbook once again to help us navigate. "Let's see, if we're going to camp outside we need to find an alleyway running east to west, since the wind is blowing north to south," I ponder aloud, "meaning that rather than crossing here we should turn left down this street and then take another left down that alleyway until we find a side-street to settle down in."

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Scourge replies, turning on his heel to walk quickly down the street. Hurrying to jam the atlas back in my jacket, I bound after him, trying to catch up.

"Hey, wait for me!"