"Great," Elesch muttered. "We're already forming a parade."
"Relax," Nova said, catching up, walking a bit faster, flashing that confident grin he always put on when he didn't want to admit defeat. "Dogs aren't a problem. Just ignore them."
But ignoring them didn't help. As they left the crowded street and turned onto a quieter road leading toward the merchant's district, more animals showed up. A cat darted from an alley meowing insistently. Then another. Soon, four cats were weaving between their legs, tails brushing against their shoes, demanding attention.
Adam groaned, nearly tripping. "Okay, this is somewhat ridiculous. What did Marcus put in there, roasted chicken? Smells like we're hauling a century-old feast."
Elesch tightened her grip on the bag, grinding her teeth, speaking maturely: "Even if it is good, it's not our job to know. It's our job to deliver it intact."
