NARRATOR'S VOICE

October 22nd, xxxx

DAYS LIKE TODAY TESTS a Pack's ability to keep frustration at bay, tests an Alpha's ability to keep the cog running smoothly, to keep everything and everyone in check.

Luckily for Alphas, they delegate like a boss, their underlings running around in a frenzy while the Alpha stays fixed in the office poring over paperwork that never reduce. Packs have Market Day—a whole day for boosting their economic market and political ties.

Makeshift shops pop up everywhere selling all sorts of products—colourful fabrics knitted, sewn, embroidered et cetera hang out in the open like billowing curtains, handmade jewelleries and knick-knacks such as pottery figurines, dolls, elaborately designed teacups and biscuits plates, carpentry wonders of domestic child sized furnitures.

Cooked food and snacks oiled, buttered, honeyed, sugared, caramelized, boiled et cetera in various delectable delicacies, the persistent aroma of it punching the Alpha's hungry taste buds but woe and occupied he is, he's basically an appendage of the desk and chair he's stationed at.

The most successful selling point however are the cubs—weaned from their mothers—on sale. Most notably the alpacas fetching an upscale price that'll fatten their account books.

However, Market Day is always a hassle for North Star meagre troops to handle—security might be tight and strict but it definitely isn't widespread. Somewhere, somehow is always left open to be somewhat guarded at the mercy of busy adults.

Thankfully, those days of vulnerable security during Market Days are over. As an act of promising partnership, Alpha Constellation sends North Star a bus of twenty-five soldiers arriving later than their Constellation buyers.

Professional but friendly is how this bus of Constellation soldiers are greeted by a stern faced Captain, shaking the hand of the assigned leader, welcoming them in a passively cordial baritone voice.

By his comportment, these soldiers will never have to guess that despite his meticulously nightmarish preparation for Market Day, North Star troops had a clash of scheduling.

As in, because of the soldiers small number, the Cap had overworked not one, not two but four soldiers this week.

That for some reason, he's always detailing them for duty without rest and because the soldiers are steadfast and disciplined, they punctiliously obeyed until they couldn't anymore.

Now thanks to the Cap's scheduling conflict and the soldiers loyal obedience, the North Star on Market Day are down four, snoring in their beds and dead to the world.

Captain berates himself heavily. The result of this self-flagellation is extra grumpiness. One he doesn't show to their Constellation visitors but that he shows to the respective ranks under him—specifically the Major and the Sergeant who take it in stride.

Market Days tends to bring out the worst grouchiness in everyone. (Some more than others though)