Torin's POV
The neutral market square was incredibly loud, a roaring sea of chaos that normally wouldn't bother me, but today it felt entirely suffocating.
Hot bodies pressed against me from every single direction as shoppers barged past, their loud voices calling out over one another to bargain for cheap winter goods.
The thick, heavy smell of freshly baked bread and greasy roasted meat mixed uncomfortably with the clouds of dry dust kicked up by the rolling wheels of passing wooden carts.
I moved through the thick of the crowd with both of my hands shoved deeply into my trouser pockets, my head lowered as my mind drifted miles away from the stalls.
I just needed a bit of fresh air to clear my lungs.
I needed physical space and a quick break from everything- the endless questions, the dark suspicions, and the crushing weight of the terrifying secret we had just discovered about Isadora back at the pack house.
