"Well," Clark hmmed after it became clear Arthur didn't have any suggestions. "We [i]could[/i] go to the market, but I doubt someone like me would be able to get lost in the crowd..."

Arthur nodded. "Even if we find a quiet nook to lay low for a while, the passersby are bound to notice a cricket and a man making our way there. Gordon would just need to ask them."

Clark closed his eyes, thinking. "A quiet nook... Hey, why don't we make it back to [i]The Homely Hearth[/i]? We're already staying there; let's get back to our room, take a breather, and decide what we should do next."

Arthur chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I'd hate to bring Gordon down on Marissa and her inn. It does seem to be the best option, though." Having said that, Arthur turned towards a narrow passage leading off the bustling Traders' Lane (called such by a sign Clark spotted above the heads of the crowd). Clark, surprised, dawdled a bit before hurrying after him.

"I thought we'd take the route through the market?" Clark asked once the din of the crowd subsided a bit. The passageway seemed to mainly be used for dumping food waste and smashed bottles. The smell wasn't pleasant in the slightest.

"Well, we could," Arthur replied, and then continued with unusual eloquence: "But see, since the inn is west of the market, and we're coming in from the north, then we can take a right turn here to get southwest, then if we find a left turn we'll get right near the side street the inn is located on, we'd just come in from the other end. Sure, we run the risk of hitting a dead end, but from what we've seen so far, alleys usually go through to the next block here, and they branch off anyways. They're mostly empty, too, and after we make several turns, Gordon will have a harder time finding us."

Arthur took in a deep breath, clearly himself surprised at the speech he had just given.

Clark blinked. "You mean you actually [i]understand[/i] how this city's plan works? I didn't even remember which exit we took last time." As they started moving through the winding alleyways at a brisk pace, he kept muttering. "Every single alleyway here looks the same... Houses, houses, and more houses. Brick houses, stone houses, wooden houses, and people and noises everywhere. I can barely start making sense of it."

Arthur grew wearier as he listened. He hadn't thought about it, not really, but in retrospect, it made sense that Clark was feeling out of place in the city. It must be vastly different to the type of place Clark usually spent his time in. He made a mental note to try and be more mindful of the cricket's struggles.

Thankfully, it didn't take long before they reached [i]The Homely Hearth[/i]. They snuck in as fast as they could and sighed in relief at the calm atmosphere that surrounded them right as they crossed the threshold. Marissa was drying glasses behind the bar, Morris was nowhere to be seen (presumably working at his forge), and the scant few patrons sat at a corner table were deep in their conversation and didn't pay them any mind.

Having paid for another night's stay, they made to their room laden with some sandwiches for Arthur, some greenery for Clark (he was nibbling at a scallion thoughtfully), and a pot of blueberry tisane. There, as the door closed and they sagged onto their beds, they could finally feel the tension start draining out of them.

"Pheeeeeeew", sighed Clark.

"Alright," said Arthur, wary but determined. "What do we do next?"