Forgive me. I get very excited about goldfish and root beer. Apparently, Hamato does not. He's missing a rare delicacy in this land! Shame.

Why does he look a little sullen? Did I hurt his feelings? I don't know what I did. My first instinct is to ignore it, a trait that helps in a blunder-land like this one, but I can relate to his problems. It's difficult to ignore him, and ignore those amiable eyes.

Santa shows us the portal back to the dinner party before our trip to the Blue Sung Thicket. If Hamato thought this world was creepy before, he is in for a treat traveling to the Thicket.

"You're in for a treat traveling to Blue Sung!" I hook the Dream-Catcher to my hip and dust off the Lantern. "The Rasta Ducks are, as some would say, a hoot."

He delicately retrieves his tools and pushes them into the purse with ease. He cautiously smiles and asks, "The ducks are really… zebras, right? Armadillos? Christmas trees?"

The Bear and Dirty One are busy arguing with pink leprechauns so I snatch a potato piece. Hamato clicks his tongue at me, but hunger wins over his discipline. "Zombies. Ghosts." This potato is the best bloody thing ever! It's succulent, sweet, yummy, and—

-Gone! Hamato rips it from my hands!

"You didn't ask for the food, Zera. That's rude."

Juice drips from the corners of my mouth, and I yearn for my treat again. My heart could rupture through my chest at any moment! "If you want your hands, return my food!"

Hamato stands guard and gives me a disapproving nod. "They prepared this food and want to serve it to their guests. You are not a guest."

"I'm famished and they're too busy for me right now. Interrupting their conversation is RUDE."

"Ask them for the food, Zera."

"Why do you say my name all the time! Like I'll forget it?"

Our argument disturbs the dinner party. "Ahoy there!" Dirty One waves his cheeseburger claw. "You're all dressed for me party! Come say hello to the new guests and dine with us! Arrrr."

"Providing that you lower your voices!" one of the pink leprechauns screeches, even points its chubby finger at us. "Especially you, Fuzzy Tramp!"

All of the leprechauns jeer at me, the disgusting little pigs. After hearing comments such as 'can we hitch a ride on your ears' and 'do you go through a car wash to clean your body', it didn't bother me; I'm used to it. Actually, I'm surprised that I didn't lunge at them and gnaw on their piggy legs, but it caught me by surprise, and I am getting low on energy.

A potato skyrockets into the pig leader's face, and he wails for his pink brothers to avenge him. Dirty One almost dies from laughing, and Bucky Bear ignores everything and takes his seat at the table. I'm astonished that Hamato committed such an act over a small thing.

"Why?" I mouth at Hamato, half smiling.

He shrugs and winks at me. "Let's go."

As we leave the dinner party for (hopefully) the last time, the leader pig screams for his mother and vows to chop my "little boyfriend" and me to pieces.

I can't stop smiling. I don't know why!

"Santa instructed us to wait for the…" Hamato squints as he reads scribble on paper, "…the Ty… phoon…. Express." He eases his eyes and finishes, "Typhoon Express. Have you ever been on that system?"

I am too busy flicking fur off my shirt, but I catch up quickly. "Typhoon! Yes! No!" I stare at a tiny drifting neon light-bulb. "No. I don't think so."

"Which one is it, Zera?"

Really, why DOES he keep saying my name all the time? "I have not, Hamato. I have never been on it, Hamato. I like your shoes, Hamato."

The light-bulb lands on his cheek and he smashes it, splashing green goo all over his face.

"You killed a Tam!"

"Habit, sorry. I thought it was a radioactive mosquito."

"Mosquito?"

"A little bug that likes to suck blood where I come from."

I must have been zoning because he stops cleaning his face and steps closer to me. "Are you okay?"

"Mos-quito." I repeat it over and over in my head. That name is so familiar to me and I hear an abrupt shrill in the distance. "What was that?"

"What?" Hamato looks across the landscape, following my spastic gaze.

"Like a buzzing noise. It's quick and then disappears."

He swats around my head and checks my ears and cheeks. "No tams. Do they bite?"

"No."

"I didn't hear it when it landed on my face," he wiped his cheek, smearing the goo a little more. "I'm not sure what you're hearing."

I dismiss it and reach into Hamato's purse and find a polka-dotted handkerchief. He doesn't like it when anybody nurses over him, that's very evident. I fight tooth and nail to wipe his face, but the goo smears until he's completely green.

"You look like a reptile now," I hiss and stuff the handkerchief in my back pocket.

His cold stare makes me shiver. "That's not a bad thing. I like being a reptile."

"As long as you don't smell."

He thaws his glare and wipes the goo on the tip of my nose. "I have a good feeling about this trip."

After a moment of staring at each other, I grow bored and search for the Express. I hope it gets here before Underlight does or we'll have more problems on our hands. The Lucaracs like to fly in the dark, and while I know Hamato can hold his own, I don't want to see him get hurt. His sensitive skin would easily crack under the Lucs' vicious claws.

Hamato incessantly scratches in small spots on his clothes, and I examine him. "I wonder if someone put an itch curse on you?"

"Why would they do that? I haven't made anyone mad." Scratch, scratch.

"Citizens here do it out of boredom and jolly. I would."

He looks beyond me and sees something in the distance. "I think there's a twister heading our way. Big, black, swirling vortex."

Indeed, Hamato is correct, and what I'm assuming is the Typhoon Express propels over the hills and carefully avoids trees and bushes. It came just at the right time as the Light submerges into the pluvial sky. Ripples stretch on both sides as far and wide as they can, and Hamato is mesmerized by the sky. It still amazes me, too.

Typhoon Express whistles and smoothly halts in front of us. The thick dirt around the twister dissipates and emerging from the center, an attractive dark-skinned male with long silver hair and piercing golden eyes. His flashy, vibrant ceremonial wear catches my attention most of all. Where did he get such a lovely outfit?

"Hello! Did you make your own robe?" My eyes fold over his beady headdress. "How long did it take you?"

"You must deem yourselves worthy to ride the express," a booming voice creeps out of his throat. "Are you worthy?"

"Uh, Zera, can I speak to you for a moment?" Hamato interrupts my adoration.

We step away from the Express, and I casually whisper, "Did you see all of those beads? It must have taken ages!"

"Do you think we can wait for another ride?" He flicks a piece of fur off my shoulder and pats down the cloth.

"Where's the fun in that?" I sneer and point to the purse. "I demand for him to make me a headdress should I win."

Hamato stops me from leaving. "Can we avoid unnecessary fighting? Let's find a place to stay for the night and hike to the Thicket tomorrow."

Our conversation is interrupted by the Express looming over us, wind and dirt swirling around him; I believe his eyes are flickering, too. So cool!

"There is no other ride for another thousand years. You cannot enter the Thicket any other way but through me."

Blood rushes to my face. "I can prove myself worthy! And I'll prove him worthy, too!" I immediately point in Hamato's direction. "Not only will you give us a ride, but you're forfeiting that head-piece too!"

"My grandmother made this for me."

"Save it for your journal, boy!" I stand on my tip-toes and face him at an awkward angle. "We're getting on the Typhoon Express one way or another!"

The Express tries intimidating us by blasting a ton of air against our bodies, sending us hurling across the stretch. Hamato bounds to his feet and coasts back to the Express, avoiding the increased winds and surge. Never have my eyes seen such a prestigious offense! The Hamato man glides like a mirage, and in moments, he finds an opening between the energy and strikes for the Express' head!

I shield my eyes and can't bare to see such an elaborate head-dress get mangled! But when I hear Hamato flush a mild expletive, I dash to his aid and find him …... covered in the red muck again.

"You hit a Bababuster?" I sniff at his sticky, red-frosting body. Not to mention that his face is still green, too.

The Express no longer poses a threat, thanks to Hamato destroying the power source: a mini-Bababuster. Those things are such a nuisance! Destroy them and their flaky body explodes on you! I pull out a kitchen sink from the purse and wet a beach towel for Hamato.

He is clearly unamused as his eyes darken, "I was hoping I wouldn't see those things again!" He doesn't miss a single spot on his face, even cleaning the green off it. I had wanted to clear his face, but I guess I'll shine his shoes and work on his legs. It's a tough little job and keeps us busy for a while. Soon, I feel a huge weight and something placed on my head.

"Yours," Express rumbles, his stance as majestic and boring as ever. "Now, board the train."

As soon as we look behind him, a long golden train greets us. It even shimmers in the twilight and quite a few passengers are on board. Hamato's expression softens at such a welcoming sight, and he helps me to my feet.

The Express turns and says with lackluster enthusiasm, "Enjoy the ride."

When he's out of earshot, I quip, "He might need a new hobby."

"I think he's sad because you now have his family heirloom." Hamato pokes at it, causing a little jingle.

"Indeed!" Bouncing really creates noise from the piece, and I'm getting odd glances from the train passengers. "You were so cool! Did you go to the Ninja Sue Academy?"

He doesn't even answer me. Just stares a hole in my head.

"Never mind," I wave it off and grab his hand. "All aboard!"

Once we're on the train, I dash for a good window seat and keep touching around the trophy. It feels just as amazing as it looks! All the little beads, ribbons, twirls, and hoops! I wrap and wrangle my fingers into every little ornament.

During Express' dull announcements about not feeding his pet shark (should he ask; he's on a sugar free diet) and keeping all limbs inside the train, suddenly I want Hamato to don HIS trophy. It's not really mine, but if he lets me have it, I won't say no.

So I plant it on his head while he's curiously staring at a man eating his own teeth. "Yours!"

He simply answers by bobbing his head and jingling.