When Yongsun was younger she always dreamed of travelling different countries, wandering and discovering diverse culture. Yongsun wonders if maybe that was how she came to believe that she'd become a flight stewardess one day.
 

But years later and as of this moment, her hair is pulled into a high ponytail sitting shotgun and sporting her faded Tesla ’87 black concert t-shirt she borrowed from a thrift store. All she needs now are sunglasses and attitude to be like any hip teenager.

A hip teenager who's about to get herself killed.

Hower was beside her driving, his eyes glued towards the open road. He had his Yankees cap on to hide the horns growing atop his head meanwhile Irene is sleeping in the backseat, dark hair bunched up in a messy bun. Yongsun ponders about their location - recalls two days ago from the tattered map that she picked up in a gas station somewhere on Wisconsin - they've followed the road to Minnesota. Guessing from the distance and days they've travelled (between attacks from a pesky karpoi in Rochester and a very friendly visit from a flock of black, metallic razor-sharp-feather-shooting birds) and the landmark boundary that was Sioux Falls from an hour ago, they're most likely travelling the roads of South Dakota. 

She opened the glove compartment of their beat up ford truck and saw the torn plastic label of a shipping location. She held it up and reread the information for a thousandth time.

USPS PRIORITY MAIL 
Southwest Wyoming Regional Airport, Rock Springs, Wyoming. 82901

And a bar code after that. She placed it back to the compartment before gazing blankly at the dry road.
Four days ago, the start of their quest led them to a very suspicious factory in Michigan. A great number of Blemmyae roamed the whole property, either dressed as foremen or wearing mismatched dresses and suits, as poor attempt of blending in. They saw the unaware mortals working alongside with those headless creatures, holding clipboards and helping with assorting different packages. Many of the blemmyes were driving forklifts, moving crates and boxes in a hurried fashion. When they infiltrated the factory and saw weapons being loaded into those crates, everything after just went downhill, their investigation got cut short but at least now they had a lead.

Ultimately, it took them four days to get here - four days of running for their lives like headless chickens. That pretty much sums up every quest a demigod goes to, if you ask Yongsun.
 
They've been driving through the never-ending highway for days, only stopping when the truck needed gas or when they had to eat. And as much as Yongsun would be happy to switch tasks with Hower once in a while, unfortunately she doesn't know how to drive, and neither does Irene. So, there's really nothing better to do other than to survive the heat.
For quite a long while Yongsun just observed the landscape around them, trying to read road signs and failing ultimately with her Dyslexia acting up.

Then the radio blasted an old song which she easily recognized as Rod Stewart’s Young Turks and was soon humming along. The gang traveled a few more miles before they stumbled to the nearest city. Hower parked the vehicle down the street. Yongsun woke Irene up before exiting the truck.

The warm weather felt good, and the radiance of the summer sun on her skin better. Her direct exposure to sunlight had a positive effect as Yongsun felt energy buzzing in her veins. She jogged towards a lone parasol outside the parlor and waited for the other two to exit the car.
When Hower came out, he had his cargo pants on, his new balance shoes that was probably stuffed with styrofoam and the Yankees cap that fitted snuggly on his brown curly hair. Irene came out next, face scrunched up, hair falling all over her hair and the girl still looked like she could walk on a runway. 

"Had a nice nap cabbage?" Yongsun said as the grumpy girl brisk walked towards the same parasol for shade.

"What? Like you’re any better, limp vegetable." Irene snaps back and for a long minute they just glared at each other. Irene broke away and rolled her eyes. "We're hungry." She concluded which earned a nod of approval.

"Yep."

"Are you ladies done? C'mon let's eat something." Hower called as he started walking down the street. Both Irene and Yongsun begrudgingly followed him under the baking heat and a minute later they found ourselves seated inside a Mexican restaurant.

Hower ordered a veggie burrito while Irene asked for a breakfast dish called chilaquiles - which Yongsun had so much trouble reading. Clueless and hungry, Yongsun stared at the menu with a befuddled expression. In the end, Irene snatched the menu from her and ordered for her.

“How is it that we still have money for this?” Yongsun asks as she looks around the fancy restaurant but the other two just ignored her. Once they were done ordering, Irene took a tourism flier from one of the racks beside their table and started reading through it with pursed lips. Hower was busy trying to find where they store the napkins and so this left Yongsun to zone out. It was the second week of summer vacation, for Yongsun. Normally, vacation starts at the end of May and ends by first week of August. Campers just started going back home last week while year-round campers like Yongsun helped cleaning the camp, dusting some temples, replacing the net in the volleyball pit, scrubbing barnacles in triremes and canoes. It was tiresome, really.

Yongsun, currently fiddling with the utensils got interrupted when Irene slaps the flier on the table.

"Apparently the name 'Wyoming' means the big plains." Irene points to a line from the flier. "I guess that's the second line of the prophecy then." She states grimly.

"Really?" Yongsun raises an eyebrow and inclines her head towards the flier to read.

"That's good, at least we know we're following the right track." Hower nods as he also peers towards the flier. "The airport is in Rocky Springs, that might be further west from here."

"Great. Next is the forked tongue, right?" Yongsun asked, mentally going over the lines.

Irene nodded and recited the prophecy.

"You shall face a threat of headless men-"

"Clearly that was in Michigan."
 
"-To find lost comrades at the great plains,
You shall follow a river of forked tounge,
And fail and leave with one who got stung."
 
Irene stared blankly at a fork. Yongsun knew Irene probably turned the prophecy around her head a million times after receiving it, she herself was like that. Mulling over every possible situation and trying to come up with a contingency again. Even if they’ve experienced questing oftentimes, most are just minor quest, it really doesn’t get easier.  Yongsun understands and squeezes Irene’s hand a little in assurance.

"Do we have any idea where we could find a river with a forked tongue?" She asks Hower in which he shook his head. The then three huddled together in an intense discussion of events, of gods and goddesses they've encountered so far, trying to make sense of what it all means.

Their discussion ended promptly as the waitress arrived with the food. They sat in silence as they munched away, each one wondering of different ways this quest could play out. Yongsun supposed that the food was great - better than what she originally expected at least, but as she chews her savory meal, she can't help but feel the taste of dread lingering with every bite.
 
Immediately after she finished eating, she walked to the rack and browsed through fliers and brochures. Looking over brightly color fliers endorsing different sights and activities available. Not long till she came back with a brochure of Yellowstone National Park and Jackson Hole Tourism.
Yongsun skimmed through the brochure contents until she arrived at the map section. Prophecies can be very vague and misleading, (She knows that too well) for all they know a river with forked tongue could mean a river serpent, not to mention the failing and getting stung part. Yongsun didn't want to mention it but she could tell that Irene is very worried about the last line of the prophecy - this was her prophecy after all - and for the past days the girl would insist on taking first watch, making petty excuses of "uncomfortable sleeping situations" and end up spending five hours of overthinking before waking either of the two to sleep herself. It was already hard to lead a quest, what more if it was doomed to fail at the very start. 

Failing could mean differently, Yongsun argues internally. 

Just when she was about to give up searching, she arrived at the map from Jackson Hole.

"Here!" She exclaimed and showed it to Irene. "It may not be this but it's the closest to a forked river I could find."

"That's great Yongsun!" Iren