It was weeks now since heading East, and Prince Shoto was sick of traveling.
He'd been traveling for months.
Momo made it better...though they'd had a few small fights. Shoto was kind of grumpy in the morning, and Momo would get a little touchy if he brought up the tribe at all...which he soon learned not to do. But in the end neither of them were of a belligerent temper enough to really fight. It always ended quickly and with no real lasting hard feelings.
Actually, Shoto had never had so little tension with any company, and at least it was nice to be around someone he actually liked.
But he was tired of sleeping outdoors, and it was only getting colder.
Momo on the other hand didn't have any problem with that, but when they went through cities or towns she sometimes got very disoriented. Navigating streets was still something she wasn't used to.
But after weeks, she was getting better at it.
All in all, Shoto would have been really hopeful about getting close to his home, if it hadn't been for the looming shadow over it all: his father.
The closer they got, the more he felt compelled to warn Momo what they would be in for.
"He'll probably bluster at the servants a lot," he'd say one time. "Sometimes he dismisses them for very little...and there's always shady people going in and out. It's better not to make eye contact with them if you don't want to challenge them to cross you."
Momo always took all this very seriously, but after a while she thought Shoto might be exaggerating how bad it was. She chose not to say so though.
Finally, they were camping out on a hill only about 20 miles from the Capital, and they could see the fortified walls of the city from there.
Shoto said they should move out of line of sight--and went into a dell.
"It's been so long," Momo said. "Do you think they'll be worried about you?"
"I don't think my sister or brother would care. Father is only worried because I'm his heir," Shoto said darkly. "He doesn't really care about me."
"Oh...I'm sorry," Momo said.
Silence.
She shivered.
Shoto lit a fire with his fire dragon. Then it grew to be big enough for Momo to lean on.
"Thanks..."
"I wonder what makes someone so cold." Shoto was still speaking of his father.
"Are all fathers the same as yours?" Momo asked.
Shoto forgot she didn't know her parents. "No, probably not. But I haven't met any other ones, so I don't know what they're like."
"Neither do I," Momo said, "but if they were nicer...but I knew Kyoka's story too... Maybe it's just as well I can't remember mine."
"You don't remember at all?" Shoto said.
Momo frowned at the fire. "The only thing I remember before the Tribe found me is...I was playing with something...sheets maybe?..and there was someone...maybe my mother, around, but I don't remember her face...and sometimes I think I sort of remember talking and laughing...and then I just remember the howling of the wolves."
"Wolves?" Shoto said.
"The Timbre wolves...attacked my family's village. That's what the leaders told me," Momo said. "But I don't remember any more than that noise." She shuddered. "Maybe I just remember that because I've heard it many times since--there's so many in the southwest.... I was told they found me in a cellar. I do not know why my parents were not with me, but Rin said she thought my father was fighting off the wolves and my mother must have tried to help. So at least they were brave, right?"
