Mika hovers above the tiled rooftops of Nettlehusk, wrapped in a dim halo of golden light, her glowing wings twitching irritably.
"Five days of babysitting a band of oversexed weirdos," she mutters, drifting above the merchant district. "This is not what I defected from heaven for."
Below, the Blackthorn crew meanders through the bustling streets of Nettlehusk, cheerful and bright-eyed despite their recent non-stop pleasure house marathon. Pip carries half a dozen crates of supplies stacked perfectly on one arm, while Lula rides on top, lazily popping dried fruits into her mouth. Penelo skipped alongside them, swinging a bag of oils, ropes, and books.
Sera and Veena were up front, haggling with a perfume vendor, while Zora floated upside down behind them, shouting incorrect conversion rates. Vuvi trailed at the rear, sipping from her flask and pretending she wasn't shopping while sternly "supervising" the team.
Mika grimaced.
