he’s been thinking about this place for a while - circling the outskirts, studying the exits, eyeing the wares. you know, casing the joint. winter has been especially cruel to the ex-prince, stealing what little flesh had clung to his slight frame and rendering him skeletal where he’d once been slender. he resents his appearance, the gaunt face peering back at him from the creek he’d bathed in mere days ago, the high swoop of his cheekbones that now serve to exacerbate his misfortune. the poorest peasants in his old pack hadn’t looked so starved.

but most of all, he resents them. the pack wolves that own this place, lazing about and growing fat on prey, flaunting their resources with such unabashed carelessness. it’s pure arrogance, ego disguised as generosity. he detests it, and now it makes it all the sweeter as he slips between the stalls, casting furtive glances while his teeth close around whatever he can reach. really, with an open place like this, it’s practically begging to be robbed - and Kady is more than happy to oblige. a crooked little smile hooks in the corner of his mouth as he works, that familiar thrill travelling down his spine. he relishes the way it makes him feel, electric and smug, a skilled little thief stealing right from beneath the pompous noses of these pampered wolves. besides, all this and more would’ve been his, had he remained a prince…so in a way, he’s just righting a few wrongs.

Spring had finally sprung. Though the flood had been devastating (in more ways than one), they're resilient folks. Nothing would keep the Armada down for long. Though they weren't back to their best, it was still more than operating condition. Hazel couldn't help the pride that washed over her as she took in the market. A guardian. Right. That felt good, too.

Hazel would never tell you she didn't have an ego. It's healthy. She'd worked her ass off, and here she was-- the ego is deserved in her eyes. That pride, that ego, it pushes her to work harder. To push herself harder. Watching carefully down over the market, it's maybe not the most difficult to find a snake in the grass. Being cased. They were being cased. A prickle running along her spine, something inside her comes to life. A delicate dance... cat and mouse. It's about to start.

Someone is out here. She slipped down from her perch, into the market itself. A prickle down her spine. Life. Hazel comes to life. The steps of a predator, one concealed among the crowd. Hunting. Oh how she hunted.

"Speech"

he doesn't notice her at first. he's too fixed on his mission, too wrapped up in his own internal gloating. how clever he is, to slip by unnoticed and take whatever his greedy little heart desires. how sneaky. it feels like a proverbial middle finger to all those slow, lazy pack wolves, too comfortable in their easy lifestyle to realise how vulnerable they really are. like taking fresh kill from a pup.

it isn't until he spots her for the third time in his peripheral that he begins to doubt himself. she disappears in and out of the crowd, easily lost to his careless eye, her pink-hued figure dismissible as just another customer. perhaps she's even a vendor herself, taking some time from her stall to view the available wares. but when she seems to follow his own movements just a bit too closely, when she seems to always be in the background no matter which stall he drifts to...

anxiety swirls in the pit of his stomach, setting him on edge. perhaps it's time to quit while he's ahead. gather up his haul, which is rather sizeable, and slip seamlessly from the marketplace. no one the wiser until they count their stockpile and notice the losses. and by then he'll be just a tiny speck of a thing on the very edge of the horizon, so undiscernible he might just be a mirage. a hallucination. a scapegoat. maybe they really did just misplace some of their wares after all. it's not like he's scared of this woman - he can take a pack wolf any day. but he'd rather not, right now. he can't really be bothered. so better to just make a quick departure while he can.

casting a glance over his shoulder at the woman, Ark picks up his steps and attempts to leave her behind in the dust as he makes a swift beeline for the exit.