The road widened as they approached the village, the air thickening with the scents of smoke, roasted meat, and sun-warmed wood. The market sprawled along the main street — stalls shaded with bright cloth, baskets overflowing with dried herbs, pottery stacked high, and strings of beads that clinked softly in the breeze.
Taren slowed his pace, padding forward with a deliberate, steady gait that kept Hava and Nyara sheltered from the milling crowd. The massive tiger drew looks, but no one dared step too close. Vos kept to their flank, a dark shadow slipping easily through the throng, his ears twitching at every unfamiliar sound.
Nyara's senses swam — so many colors, scents, and voices all at once. The press of bodies made her shoulders tighten, but Hava's arms around her never wavered.
They stopped before a modest stall at the far end of the market, where an elderly rabbit beastman sorted bolts of fabric. His long ears twitched when he saw Hava, and his lined face split into a smile. "Snow leopard! I thought you'd gone north with the summer caravans."
"Not this year," Hava replied warmly. "We're running goods west before the storms." She dismounted smoothly, keeping one arm on Nyara as she helped the girl down.
The rabbit's gaze flicked to Nyara. "Yours?"
"Mine to look after," Hava said simply. The words carried the quiet finality of a claim, not ownership — a promise.
While Vos and Taren busied themselves trading goods for grain and dried fish, Hava guided Nyara through the quieter edge of the market. She bought her a small twist of dried fruit and a leather cord to keep her hair from falling into her face.
"Markets can be noisy," Hava murmured, crouching to Nyara's height as they stepped into the shade of a canvas awning. "But they're also full of stories. Everyone here is going somewhere, and everyone's carrying something worth knowing."
Nyara chewed her fruit slowly, letting her gaze wander. A group of children darted between stalls, a fox beastman haggled loudly over a cartwheel, and in the distance, the caravan's wagons waited in the sunlight.
For the first time since joining them, she let herself think — maybe the road wasn't such a bad place to be.
By the time the sun reached its peak, the caravan was ready to move again. Hava lifted Nyara back onto Taren's broad shoulders, settling in behind her. The market's noise faded behind them as the road opened ahead, winding toward lands Nyara had never seen.
And somewhere deep in her chest, the seed of safety Hava had planted began to grow a little deeper.