Ciscera grunted as he led her out of the brothel, but said no more. Despite his weeks enduring torture, starvation, and other consequences of being taken prisoner, the wolf continued to play officer in his actions and commands. It was if he forgot whose army had been decimated, whose hands had been in chains, whose head would have been hung in the central square of this glorious city! Regardless of what he thought, however, he was not her superior, and she refused to submit to such foolery. 

As they walked, however, she felt her mind quickly cooling from the fresh aspect of a new day. Gone were muffled thumps and cries of ecstasy, replaced by the conversations of the riversladian citizens as they went about their day. And even though the crystalline spires of the central city were absent here, the bright day revealed colors and design aplenty in glass ornaments, fanciful woodworking, and woven fabric made from the skilled craftsmen of the area. Despite not being in the elite center of the city, the skill was truly present in that which she observed about her, with even this lower classed neighborhood spotted with traces of exquisite splendor. 

Ciscera had not spent much time about these premises, but they were suitable enough for a knight of her caliber. At any rate, they were far more suitable than the company walking alongside her. It didn't take long for his words to slither into her ear again, a demand, an urge to not overlook his new prize. His little speech caused Ciscera to smirk at the prospect, her head sadly shaking from side to side as she struggled to understand the creature she had been unwillingly paired up with. For such a staunch unbeliever in brothels, the fact that he had taken such a liking to the slave was both humorous and ironic. “I don’t care how “special” she is, Shar, but the whore is not coming with us. Surely as an [i]officer of Tun’ayruk[/i] you are beyond the follies of the immature and homesick green soldier. And do not speak on behalf of my own knowledge, but of yours; as of now, we are in [i]my domain,[/i] and, as thus, should reign in your tongue. Any claims you have to disobey my orders, I have far more than yours -- dear pet, let us not forget who captured whom. ”

At this point, she was feeling quite satisfied with herself, and proceeded to ignore any retort the wolf might respond with. Having been ushered out of the brothel before a meal could be provided, the tigress was looking forward to some form of nourishment, as would be readily available in the market they approached. the smells hinted at an array of spices, tickling her nose and tantalizing her belly with the thought of the meal they implied. Pulling her cloak farther over her head, the tigress freely left the wolf’s side, seeking out her own objectives in this bustling marketplace. 

Her first task, of course, was to follow her nose. This wasn't the most tactically sound objective as of now, but it was something she felt she deserved at the moment. This “quest” of the gryphon’s could wait on her… and every action that she could take to exasperate the wolf made her own journey that much more tolerable. Out of the wolf’s presence, but likely not out of his sight, she took her time eyeing and examining choice breads, cheeses, and meats, the things that catered most to her personal needs. But as she viewed over the prices, she became uncomfortably aware of the fact that the two truly had no money to spend, as the entire purse was spent on their unfortunate lodging for the next few days, the coin supposed to ensure all luxuries for the outrageous price paid. In the past she had been able to use her position and fame to get items from the awestruck crowd, but, with the guard probably alerted to their presence and a hunt presumably fixated upon their hides, it was better to keep the cowl on her face than expose her unique coloration and their presence in this community. 

But as she pored over the food articles resting on their shining platters, a new sense found itself wrapped in beauty, the soft sounds soaring through the restless crowd to find refuge in her perking ears. In the company of the king, she had heard the sounds of many sorts of ensembles, but this particular instrument was beyond any she had heard before, resonating the fibers of her very soul. Keeping her cowl pulled over her head, Ciscera maneuvered her way through the crowd, her ears picking up this strange music through the dark fabric and guiding her through the general populace.

It wasn’t long before she found the source of the music; a shape curled into itself on a stairway, ignored by the bodies shuffling past it on their way to view more of the expansive market. A further lookover revealed the shrouded being to be a flying fox, likely a native of the newly conquered Southern Marshes. Dark eyes looked into the sky as it’s leathery fingers grasped at a thin, two stringed instrument, long, low notes emanating from the string with every pluck. The other string was left untouched, but the string itself was vibrating from the movement of the other notes, providing a higher accompaniment to the flowing melody. Those vacant eyes peered through their dark globes at that sunny horizon as if searching for the mangroves and mud of her former habitat, while a barely parted mouth offered a softer counter-melody to the arrangement. 

Ciscera retreated a few feet to a nearby stand, where she watched the flow of traffic pass by. Though few paid attention, a small clang and a toss from a passing raccoon revealed a small hat upon the ground, laid as if discarded near the bat’s unclothed feet, a few gold coins dropped out of pity into the tattered rag. But in the midst of the river of people, she noticed a few who also did not move: two foxes, dressed in silks far more elegant than that upon the ground, and covered with patterns far above the skill level of those selling here. Judging from their flashing jewelry and pompous expressions, it was clear that they were simply visiting the market from the castle grounds. Given the fact that she had been absent from the castle for months, and that their return was too short to have picked up much information, Ciscera casually left her post, taking up a new position closer to that of the elegant ladies. 

“...and it was such a shame,” one was saying, her dyed lips moving quickly amongst crimson garments. “If Fallon had bet nearly ten pieces more, we could have made enough to purchase the entire estate!”

“Indeed,” the other replied, yellow gems shimmering at her neck as she brought up a fan of the same hue. “but now that the Carmac’s have retired their strider, the races will be far more focused on the Tawnherd beasts anyway. His stock is the finest in the nation! Did you hear that his winning steed, Nightgazer, will be the princess’s mount on her birthday?”

‘Oh, how delightful! His silver fur would be an excellent complement to any mask that she may wear! Such a fanciful event it will be, with all of us far from the company of these peasants and dancing with the royalty themselves…”

This new information caught Ciscera’s ear, and she leaned slightly around the corner, hoping to catch as much of the conversation as possible. She had been to some of the princess’s former parties, themed events to mark her aging into the throne -- a frivolous event that was mandatory for the beloved of the king. If this year was a masquerade, it could her path to Akriii… and with the guards enforcing the barriers of the party, escape may also prove more feasible.

…” must be so proud to have such a daughter,” one of the vixen’s was saying. “And such a beauty for the young lords to behold as well. Very exotic, she is. The only problem the kingdom has with her is that all the lords will be trying to catch her favor, losing ours!”

“Yes, but think! If we can find a fanciful enough mask here in this marketplace, we’ll be able to snag one of the lad’s for sure! With luck, they’ll never know until it’s too late to resist our own beauty..”

The two foxes moved back off into the crowd, but the tigress didn’t pursue: she was quite satisfied with what she had learned already. They moved past the bat, kicking aside the hat and the few gold coins, their faces shining as they bounced away into the crowd. A pair clinked their way to her boots, spinning to a halt against their leather surfaces. “This would be enough for breakfast, at least,” she muttered to herself, recovering them with a quick grasp of her hands, the shaded individual returning to the bustling stalls of the marketplace with not even a mere glance behind her.