The cart clattered behind me as I slowed Dusty down, with Chloe humming a melody next to me, her auburn curls bobbing with each bump of the wheels. The women from the market had intrigued me before, and their whispered voices stayed in my thoughts like an annoying itch. The terms *mansion* and *wolves* were not something I could overlook—not when our survival relied on being aware of every danger.
They were strolling in front of us now, their baskets loaded with food and fabric. A stout woman with graying hair hidden under a scarf tried to reposition her burden, while her taller friend hurried along, her anxious energy apparent in her frequent glances behind her.
"Mom, where are we headed?" Chloe inquired, her voice interrupting my reflections.
"To assist," I answered plainly, guiding Dusty to the side and jumping off the cart.
Chloe leaned her head to the side with curiosity but moved along with me, her small legs scurrying to match my pace.
