Sand...had changed quite a lot, actually.
There were significant structures aboveground now, the rebuilding apparently proceeding apace. What must have been the Kage tower rose majestically out of the windswept sands, gleaming in the midday light. At the distance they were at, it still wasn't hard to see the numerous coloured symbols splashed over the surface, carved and painted into the silvery stone.
Beyond that, there were...people. On the surface. Not a sight he'd seen much of last time, to be sure. In fact, the whole trip over from the port had been peaceful, with a lack of need to pull up his scarf or wear his goggles.
Partly because of me, he thought smugly, as the phoenix flooded him with an approving feeling.
"This is the entrance to Sand, huh?" Sheimi said, peering up at the dojo. Her hair was straighter than he'd ever seen it, without Moon's humidity making it bunch up and stick together in waves that sometimes, on wetter days, nearly became curls. "Where's the rest of it?"
"Still underground, I assume," Makoto responded. "Could you hand me the invitation? I should take point; I've been here before."
Sheimi shrugged. Amusement. "Sure." She dug it out of a pocket on the side of her travel pack and handed it over. "Here."
Tatsuya murmured something, and his snake hissed what may have been a laugh. When they both glanced at him, he shrugged. "She likes traveling, and I haven't been here before," he said simply.
"Weirdo," Makoto muttered. "The talking snake likes travel, of course it does."
Sheimi merely rolled her eyes. Superiority, more amusement. If he focused on her emotions, he could mostly ignore Tatsuya and the weird gap in his.
"All right," he said aloud. "We're going to have to present a united front on this. Although, just for reference, I'm not rooming with either of you when we get to the hotel."
"Definitely not," Sheimi said, but she was looking at Tatsuya and frowning when she said that, not at him.
Oh, this is not going to go well...
Since he had put himself in the position to do it, Makoto had no choice. He walked up to the doors of the Dojo, much like he had many months prior, and knocked sharply three times.
There were significant structures aboveground now, the rebuilding apparently proceeding apace. What must have been the Kage tower rose majestically out of the windswept sands, gleaming in the midday light. At the distance they were at, it still wasn't hard to see the numerous coloured symbols splashed over the surface, carved and painted into the silvery stone.
Beyond that, there were...people. On the surface. Not a sight he'd seen much of last time, to be sure. In fact, the whole trip over from the port had been peaceful, with a lack of need to pull up his scarf or wear his goggles.
Partly because of me, he thought smugly, as the phoenix flooded him with an approving feeling.
"This is the entrance to Sand, huh?" Sheimi said, peering up at the dojo. Her hair was straighter than he'd ever seen it, without Moon's humidity making it bunch up and stick together in waves that sometimes, on wetter days, nearly became curls. "Where's the rest of it?"
"Still underground, I assume," Makoto responded. "Could you hand me the invitation? I should take point; I've been here before."
Sheimi shrugged. Amusement. "Sure." She dug it out of a pocket on the side of her travel pack and handed it over. "Here."
Tatsuya murmured something, and his snake hissed what may have been a laugh. When they both glanced at him, he shrugged. "She likes traveling, and I haven't been here before," he said simply.
"Weirdo," Makoto muttered. "The talking snake likes travel, of course it does."
Sheimi merely rolled her eyes. Superiority, more amusement. If he focused on her emotions, he could mostly ignore Tatsuya and the weird gap in his.
"All right," he said aloud. "We're going to have to present a united front on this. Although, just for reference, I'm not rooming with either of you when we get to the hotel."
"Definitely not," Sheimi said, but she was looking at Tatsuya and frowning when she said that, not at him.
Oh, this is not going to go well...
Since he had put himself in the position to do it, Makoto had no choice. He walked up to the doors of the Dojo, much like he had many months prior, and knocked sharply three times.