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Her satchel bulged with the added zinjabar tangles, seemingly threatening to burst open and spill its contents at any moment which made securing the metallic catch much too difficult to be worth the effort. Instead, rather than fighting to keep it closed, Mika adjusted the sling so the satchel could rest high upon her back. However, although she would not likely spill anything now, whether she could navigate the chaotic markets without bumping into someone was another matter.
One she preferred to avoid.
Ducking into a narrow alley nearby, she left behind the strangely melodious chorus of voices calling out from their colourful market stalls. The sky above her head soon turned from the endless blue with its soft clouds to the suffocating gray of steel where the market’s haphazard buzz gave way to the steady whir of machinery.
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