What’s in front of Six, as it happens, is a tangle of plant life that seems to have gained a mind of its own, vaguely in the shape of a dog, though the blade cuts through easily enough. It tries to snap at Six weakly, hissing, but its form won’t grant it much purchase.

Meager produce is scattered everywhere on the ground and a small cart overturned; Daud holds the reins of the horse he’d caught before it could bolt further, a bit of alchemical dust blown into its face to calm it down. At the sight of Six, he sheathes his sword and gives her a quick nod.

There’s a man who’s been thrown on the ground, shaken and bruised but otherwise unharmed, and a tearful woman at his side. It takes a moment or two for them to start talking, but when it does, the story is straight forward enough. He’d thought his dog was merely feeling unwell — it wasn’t until he started to unload the cart that the monster sprang out.