Donovan sighed as the passenger next to him jolted awake as the bus came to a stop and elbowed him in the ribs. The Changeling kept staring out the window and tried to ignore the discomfort of being cooped up tighter than a sardine in a can. He knew he should have hiked through the Hedge but Hearthfire had convinced him a bus would be safer. And safer it might be but for the Woodwalker, who had spent years doing nonstop work, it was almost torturous to sit still for so long. The only parts of him that had managed to sleep were his legs and one arm that his rowmate had started using as a pillow half way through the night. Donovan didn’t look forward to the pins and needles that would swarm his arm like flies.

“Are we there?” the guy asked groggily and blinking.

“Nope, stop light,” Donovan replied simply. It wasn’t much further but the last stretch seemed to be taking longer than it should. They had arrived in Sacramento just in time for afternoon traffic. The Wizened was pretty sure he could walk faster. The only thought that kept him sane was that they should be arriving in less than 15 minutes. Then he could start hiking.

“Ah,” mumbled his fellow passenger before they magically fell asleep again two seconds later. Donovan envied the guy and how relaxed he was. Donovan was stressed. While he was still certain this was where he was supposed to be, arriving made him realize just how large the task of finding his fetch and mother would be. In all likelihood he’d be joining the city’s homeless population for a while. Maybe set up camp outside the capital and watch for his fetch. With luck he’d find a local freehold and see if he couldn’t get help.

The bus pulled forward a block and then ground to another halt at the next light.

“Are we there?”