The day was already warming when the caravan began to stir in earnest. From her spot near Hava's tent, Nyara could hear the calls of the handlers, the thud of crates being loaded, and the shuffle of hooves on packed dirt. She stayed close to the snow leopard female, shadowing her every move the way she had the day before.
Hava's thick, rosetted tail swayed behind her as she adjusted the straps of her travel pack. "Stay near me, little shadow," she said, her voice calm but carrying the weight of habit. "The road is busy, and the market busier still."
A short distance away, Taren — his striped coat visible even in his humanoid form — was checking the harness on one of the supply carts. When his gaze found Hava, something softened in his expression. He stepped away from the cart, his muscles shifting as he let his beast form ripple over him. In moments, the tall tiger beastman was gone, replaced by a massive tiger with a coat of deep orange and black, his amber eyes bright with recognition.
Hava stepped to his side, brushing a hand over the fur at his neck. "You'll carry us?" she asked softly.
The tiger rumbled deep in his chest, dipping his head in silent agreement.
With practiced ease, Hava mounted, then reached down and pulled Nyara up in front of her. The girl tensed at first — the tiger's heat radiating through her legs — but Hava's arms circled loosely around her, her tail curling protectively over Nyara's lap.
Vos, the dark-furred wolf beastman, fell into step on their right. His sharp, assessing gaze swept the caravan's path ahead, but when he glanced at Nyara, there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes. "Stay in the middle," he advised, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Less chance of being jostled by traders who forget their manners."
The caravan began to move, the rhythm of paws and hooves blending with the creak of wheels and the murmur of voices. Nyara watched as the riverside glade that had been their camp receded into the distance, replaced by open road lined with tall grass and the occasional scatter of wildflowers.
As they neared a bend, the faint din of the market began to reach them — shouts, laughter, and the clatter of tools against wood. Nyara's ears twitched at the rising noise, her claws curling lightly into the leather of Taren's shoulder.
Hava leaned down slightly so her voice reached only Nyara. "Just stay close. I'll be with you the whole time."