In front of what looked like a mountain.
Well—calling it a mountain didn't quite fit. It was more like a carved, curved rise of land, hollowed out and filled with entrances. Dozens—no, hundreds—of caves formed into its side, one over the other like stacked alcoves.
It was alive.
People were moving in and out, voices echoing across the stone, laughter rising and falling. A marketplace, unmistakably. But not a modern one. No loud speakers, no glass, no steel. This place felt ancient. Timeless.
And none of them—not a single one—were human.
They were all beastmen.
Every shape and form she'd never imagined before walked right in front of her. Some with rabbit ears, like Cutie's tribe. Others with sleek panther-like ears and deep, watchful eyes, their black tails swaying behind them. A few had striped ears—bold, pointed, with fur patterns like tigers or cheetahs—flicking with every movement.
And their clothes?
It was like walking through fashion across ages and lands.
