A young adult woman slips through the alley entrance, slight and quick, with sun-browned skin and a narrow face, her dark braid tucked beneath a green-trimmed cloak. She carries a covered wicker cage; something inside scratches with many small claws. The trim closely resembles the torn thread left on the stall hook.
The giant spider rises at once, broad violet-marked body unfolding between Averil and the newcomer. Its forelegs lift, blocking the narrow passage while the cage rattles against the seller’s hip.
The Young Animal Seller
Wait. Please, I am not with the watch.
She freezes with one hand raised, revealing a freckled face and wary gray eyes. Behind her, boots and shouted questions echo faintly from the street, though no pursuers have entered the alley.
The Giant Spider
The many-footed ones follow her scent. The little cage carries fear.
The Young Animal Seller
I chose this place because the guards search the main street. I can leave, if you let me pass without opening the cage.