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“You shouldn’t be out here,” Megumu says, though she’s not sure if Momoyo can even hear her. She nudges Momoyo with one foot. No response. “You’ll freeze to death. What would become of your reputation, if you were to die like this?”
Slowly, very very slowly, Momoyo lifts her head. She blinks at Megumu, confusion glazing over her half-lidded eyes before they briefly clear with recognition. Rather than answering, she only yawns and tucks her face back down between her knees. With the way she’s curled up like that, Megumu could tip her over if she wanted to.
But she does no such thing. Instead, Megumu sighs and crouches, spreading her wings to shield them both from the falling snow.
“It’s rare to see you like this,” she continues, brushing powder off Momoyo’s hair and shoulders. “Why did you come to the surface?”
Momoyo finally stirs. She mumbles: “… Lookin’ for food.”
“Is that all?”
“Had a craving.”
“For?”
“Somethin’ fresh. I dunno.”
Megumu softly clicks her tongue, tsk, and lays a hand upon the crown of Momoyo’s head. Someone as strong as Momoyo wouldn’t actually succumb to the cold, but if she’d been completely buried by the snow, she likely wouldn’t move until spring arrived to thaw her out. That in of itself wouldn’t be much of an issue. The problem would be the possibility of a white wolf tengu stumbling upon her on a patrol route.
In reality, Momoyo wouldn’t pose much of a threat if she were immobilized by the freezing temperatures. But then the white wolves might report her, and the other tengu would get involved, along with the other Great Tengu, and that would be a thorn in Megumu’s side that she would rather not deal with.
So she allows the snow to dust her wings, unbothered by the bite of the frosty air.
Momoyo yawns again, stirring once more. Megumu patiently holds herself as still as stone while Momoyo unfurls herself and draws in closer, grabbing at her clothes with cold hands. That, too, doesn’t bother Megumu.
“You’re so clingy,” Megumu says, amused. “Aren’t you lucky that I decided to come looking for you?”
“… Hungry.”
“Eloquent as always, Himemushi.”
With Momoyo now latched onto her with no hope of prying her off for now, Megumu straightens up to her full height. Her geta sink into the frozen soil with a muffled crunch with every step she takes, the snow still falling all around them in a gentle flurry. All the other beasts of the mountain, including the lesser youkai, have retreated to their dens— but not Momoyo, no, always reckless and too confident in her own strength.
Or maybe it wasn’t recklessness, as much as it was pure whim spurred on by perpetual hunger.
Well, it isn’t as though Megumu wouldn’t understand such feelings.
Momoyo noisily yawns right into her ear. “How the hell’re you so warm? S’like you came right outta the hot springs.”
“Crows don’t get cold so easily. We’re well-adapted for things like this— how do you think I can live so comfortably at the peak of the mountain? Didn’t I tell you about it before? At any rate, I’m glad I can serve as a convenient heater for you.”
“Ahh, quit complaining,” Momoyo says, her usual energy already creeping back into her voice. “I thought ya liked it when I get clingy. That’s what you called me, ain’t it?”
“Yes. You’re very clingy. You’re clinging to me right now, in fact.”
“And you like this sorta thing! Right?”
They both know the answer to that, so Megumu doesn’t bother saying anything. An entrance to the mines lies just ahead, hidden at the bottom of a sheer cliff face that juts out with jagged boulders. No guards have been posted here— the entrance is unmarked and unknown to anyone else but the yamawaro, and the yamawaro have more than gladly agreed to avoid venturing into the mines. It’s cold but dry inside, offering shelter from the falling snow. A stale wind whistles from deep within the mountain.
Megumu leans against the rough-hewn wall of the tunnel once they’re far enough in, ruffling her wings to shake the snow off. She’s not tired from carrying Momoyo this far, but even she's slowed down when winter is at its peak. Her breath fogs before her, barely visible with such little light able to reach this part of the mine.
“Hey. You can get off of me now.”
“Hmmm… I don’t think so. You’re warm, and ya smell nice too.”
Figures. With no other option, Megumu sighs and lowers herself to the ground, rocks and other debris pressing painfully into her back. Momoyo shifts to adjust her hold on her, sniffing the crook of her neck without even bothering to hide her intentions.
It’s only basic instinct for a centipede to bite after wrapping itself around prey, after all. Megumu slides her fingers through Momoyo’s hair. Now’s not really a convenient time for it, but…
“… There are other things I can do to help warm you up,” she says, twitching at the sensation of sharp teeth grazing her neck. That lone wind howls through the tunnel again, a reminder of how utterly alone and isolated they are with the unrelenting snowstorm outside. There wouldn’t be anyone else around these parts of the mines, much less outside the entrance to the cave.
“S’that so?” Momoyo breathes against her, tightening her grip. She’s already coming back to life, thawing steadily but surely, like a beast stirring from hibernation.
“Your body still feels cold, doesn’t it? I’ll help you out with that.”
Megumu closes her eyes and smiles, plucking at the waistband of Momoyo’s skirt. Yes, a break from work wouldn’t—
Momoyo abruptly unwraps herself from Megumu and jumps up to her feet.
“With a danmaku battle?! You’re a genius, always a genius! A good fight’s definitely gonna get my blood pumpin’ properly again!” Momoyo exclaims, shivering and bouncing from heel to heel. She vigorously rubs her hands together, no longer protected from the elements by Megumu’s body heat. “Ahh, shit, it’s cold— let’s go, Iizunamaru!”
This time, it’s Megumu’s turn to blink in confusion, left to sit alone. Was she not clear enough? Or is it Momoyo being Momoyo, frighteningly sharp at best and frustratingly obtuse at worst? Is it possible she's just messing around for a cheap laugh, even? Perish the thought. But… no, this is just as fine. Maybe even better, depending on how she looks at it.
Megumu pushes herself up off the ground. It feels like more snow’s just been dumped right over her head, but it’s almost refreshing, if in a sort of annoying way. But she can’t actually be annoyed. Not when Momoyo’s grinning like that.
“Danmaku? Who said anything about danmaku?” she asks, and she throws a punch at Momoyo’s face.