File City stopped providing jobs for a while now. Digimon had issues everyday which required the help of a mercenary, but there was still downtime for each area of the island. All this did was make Ferghus anxious about his funding. Living paycheck to paycheck was far from desired when his budget involved heavy smoking and drinking. The Leomon's own habits were a stress killer, providing him time to put thoughts into one, coherent definition, and gave the lion a chance to entertain himself. His next destination, Neon City, was a prime choice for both business and pleasure. Was the last time he was there before or after being kicked out of a bar for starting a drunken brawl? Recalling those moments were a good way to pass the time. As for multitasking, what other good way to help was avoiding a massive herd of Monochromon loitering about the canyon floor. "Of course these big fuckers agonna git in mah way," the lion said, grumbling a few other extremities while keeping an unlit cigarette in his mouth. His smoke stick was the closest thing he could get to an actual smoke break, but the risk of dropping a burning cigarette by accident towards the canyon floor would not only piss Ferghus off, but depending on how the dinosaurs below reacted, they might begin to stampede. Even a solid grip on the wall did not always work the way a traveler wanted it to. He let out a grunt as he hopped over towards another foothold and adjusted his stance. Ledges and outcroppings had been scarce throughout the recent areas the lion man wandered through the past couple of hours. Every part of his upper body was covered in sweat, muscles straining to keep going. He was a stubborn man, however, pushing his brain to think of his wall scaling as a proper workout. Ferghus used this as a reminder to go visit an actual gym for once instead of using some makeshift object into a training utility. Dirt and pieces of rock embedded themselves into his fur, the Leomon having to shake and dust off his body on occasion. Nearby was a proper ledge he could rest on which remained in his sole eye's line of vision. The simple things standing in his way were a one way falling ticket into the horn of a short tempered Monochromon, and a few, sturdy roots sticking out of the wall. Simple investigation noted the latter as the better option. Ferghus reached a hand out, grabbing the first root, pushing off the wall with his feet and wrapping both hands around his target. Gravity saw his body drag down, his arms tugged on from his body's mass. That was one hod down. Now was the tough part, his body starting to swing back and forth to obtain a worthwhile rhythm. Repeat that process a few times and the Leomon touched down on both feet. That risk of death below caused a surge of adrenaline to continue pulsing throughout his body. The open ledge had a path leading down to the floor, and Ferghus noticed the Monochromon herd beginning to leave the canyon. Or at least, this part of it. The sun continued to radiate its heat upon the lion, who slumped his back against the wall, pulling out a lighter and beginning his well deserved smoke break. Ferghus's constant panting did nothing to help with the man taking drags of his cigarette, but the effects were still noticeable. Looking towards where Neon City would be in the distance, if he were close enough, the digimon judged how much longer until he got there. His starting early this morning and almost never stopping caused the Leomon to roll his eyes, "Oh god damn these long ass trips."