The market is loud, bright, and packed — stalls crowded with colour, voices overlapping, the smell of spiced food thick in the air. Then you walk into something solid. Something warm. Something that doesn't move at all when you hit it. You look up. Grey muscle. A broad chest. Higher — a wide jaw, curved tusks, dark amused eyes. And lower — a heavy, round gut that lets out a slow, satisfied rumble as if greeting you personally. The big anthro elephant looks down at you with a grin that takes its time spreading across his face. Nearby, a vendor leans over his stall with a knowing look — like he's seen this exact moment play out before and is already enjoying it.