The trip probably should've been fifteen minutes, maximum, with how close they actually were. However, between the effects of the crowds, Sonia slowing to make sure Foxsumon was still following, and Keramon stopping in her tracks to let Sonia (and by proxy Foxsumon) catch up, it took twice as long. Sonia didn't mind, better late than separate - as she noted aloud at one point, even pronouncing the last word differently to make it rhyme. And, of course, she had to explain to Foxsumon how she had ended up with a native of this very city.

"Well, I don't know how often this kind of thing happens since I've only met a couple of others and their partners were, and I'm using their words, a 'vagabond', a 'hobo', and a 'pilgrim', but Keramon mentioned she chose to go out so maybe most digimon are happy staying at home instead of checking out the human world and I guess that makes sense because I don't think I would've ever come here alone so I guess it doesn't happen often though I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing but I guess it makes your job easier - we're not going too fast, are we?"

Thirty minutes. Keramon outright laughed about five minutes in, and her amusement clearly had not abated in the slightest, if her smile could be trusted.

But finally, they reached Flawizardmon's place. Despite being down a side street, it seemed to be moderately busy. No Flawizardmon was in sight, but a Tapirmon was rushing around taking orders and plates. Sonia watched through the propped-open door.

"You sure he can feed us, right? Seems like he's got a lot of people to deal with-"

"[code]He haz had worze, and he owez me. He will feed uz, Miz Zonia.[/code]" Keramon's voice didn't waver at all as she interrupted Sonia.

"Well, alright then! I'm parched anyways!" Sonia marched in. Keramon stopped to giggle, gesturing for Foxsumon to go in ahead of her. She was going to need a second.
--
Well. All that had been nice but Omekamon needed to close up his shop to restock. When he had managed to rent space in the next town over and avoid Tenacity Town's sky-high rates, he had praised himself for his brilliance. Now that he had to go retrieve his stock from there, he questioned his wisdom. He'd have to be gone for a couple of hours; hopefully, it wouldn't cost him too much.

He had just about reached the south entrance, where the crowd was thinnest and largely composed of a handful of locals looking for some peace and quiet, when there was a pained howl. Omekamon jumped. He wasn't the only one; it seemed like everyone else had heard it too. When he looked, though, nothing stood out to him. Everyone looked perfectly fine.

The howl happened again, louder, and Omekamon trembled. That was not the cry of a sane digimon. Worse, he was pretty sure he could pinpoint its direction this time.

He stared at the tent on the side of the road.

"Is... that here for the festival?" He finally managed to find his voice. The closest digimon, a Soulmon, shrugged. She looked just as frightened as he felt.

Then the tent tore, and [i]something[/i] lunged at the Omekamon.

Omekamon heard the screaming but could no longer tell who it was.