Sylvia sat with absolute composure on a wooden chair with a thin cushion behind her vending table. On her lap, the mysterious golden cat curled up in a highly comfortable position, coiling like a precious ball of fur that radiated constant warmth.
The morning sun, slowly climbing toward its zenith, no longer emitted a reddish dawn light, but instead began to illuminate every corner of Silvermist city's market with a thick, warm golden glow. The light fell upon the roofs of fabric canopies, reflected off the stone streets that were starting to dry, and gave a magical sheen to the golden cat's fur.
The atmosphere around the stall felt incredibly lively, a soothing sensory symphony for a hunter accustomed to the gripping silence inside dungeons. The aroma of premium spices from Sylvia's own stall an exotic combination of sharp black pepper, sweet-warm cinnamon, and soothing purple Nocture petals evaporated into the air, creating its own aromatic fortress.
