Roxy's grand, independent, and highly practical "quick trip" to the Central Beast Market had completely failed.
She had tried to put her foot down. She had eloquently argued that a simple grocery and textile run did not require all of them to go together.
But did they listen?
No.
They simply crossed their massive arms, planted their boots, and flatly refused to let her leave the territory without them.
Which was exactly how Roxy found herself sitting in the center of a transport wagon.
Roxy was seated on plush velvet cushions, wearing a heavy, fur-lined winter cloak over her dress. Tyara was strapped securely to her chest, fast asleep and entirely oblivious to the bumping of the wooden wheels.
