The stone walkway they happened to choose was a straight shot to the town's walls with a few branches. On these branches, there were a few boats tied up. Humans gathered in these areas doing all sorts of things. Loading and unloading, untying the boat to set out, playing games to pass the time, hanging off the side of the path dangerously close to the sinking sands, and of course sleeping. Most kept their clothes nice and tidy to stave off the sun's powerful rays, but a few were less restrained, going around with open faces or tops.
One thing they had in common was that the boat was their whole world. Their job, their livelihood, and their home all in one. As such, they were fiercely protective and kept a close eye on the passing demons. Blatant hostility seeped through their clothing and projected towards them until the two of them passed the respective branches that the boats were moored at. The branches themselves were small and seemingly fragile, barely wide enough for a person to walk upon and many a life had been claimed by carelessness.
Like the fragile branches, these peoples' lives relied upon the boats. All it took was one mistake and they would fall and never come back up. While the main path that brought the two demons to the town was almost a meter wide, long enough for people to walk side by side and recover if one slipped. At the end of this path was a staircase to the top of the walls. More people showed up from the top of the staircase coming down to find their respective vessel. Turns out that it was a rarity for ships to come back at this time and that it was launch time for most.
Even more of a rarity was the tortoise that was wide enough to take up half of the path, forcing the newcomers to go around. Curiosity was weak within these people desperate to jumpstart their day and make their living, instead they felt pure annoyance at this obstacle. They hopped and skid around the tortoise and the tortoise itself tried to snap at a few. Used to facing "pushy" people occasionally on these walkways, they easily dodged these bite attempts before going on their way. One of them even put in the extra effort to slap the tortoise upside the head much to its chagrin.
To make things worse was the stairs. It was slow on even ground, slower on an incline, and slowest on terrain that interfered with its ability to climb. Stairs forced it to lift its entire body a decameter higher and struggle to gain a proper footing. All with the risk of sliding back down if its shell rested upon the edges of the steps. Meanwhile, the humanoid demon easily scaled the steps and disappeared into the town rather than wait once again for the tortoise to finish.
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Every step brought it forward a bit while others went by in the other direction, confused and angry with this space hogger. It learned its lesson and gave up on biting the passer-bys, knowing it'd get a chance to do more than just bite them later. Once, twice, and then thrice it slid back down after losing its balance on a step. The second time it fell all the way to the bottom and almost fell off the path. While on the third time, one of the passing humans tried to pick it up but found it to be too heavy to lift past a few centimeters and dropped it, but that was enough to make it fall a few steps and lose its progress.
On the fourth try, it finally made it to the top only to discover it wasn't a wall but a floor. The entire town was built upon a foundation meters above everything else. The ground was scaldingly hot despite it only being morning. While open flames seemed to dot the landscape, hanging from various buildings. One would think that a town in the desert would avoid heat rather than embrace it. However, this one broke all the rules.
The humanoid demon reappeared shortly, dragging some sort of wagon behind it, having not abandoned the tortoise. Fact was, the tortoise was painfully slow by itself and required some sort of device to get anywhere in a timely manner. Without complaint, it stepped onto the wagon and let it be taken through this town of flames. The wagon itself was a slab of metal on four wheels with a long handle to drag it. A few other wagons could be seen as they went through town, mostly being used to transport boxes and bags.
Like moths attracted to flames, humans gathered everywhere in the town and congested things. So much so that the wagon felt unnecessary at this speed. The tortoise had no intention of getting off and instead used this free time to observe its surroundings. People, people, and more people endlessly walking back and forth. None of them stopping for anything yet the crowd still moved so slowly.
Occasionally, the crowd would clear up enough for a gap to show the other side. Alleyways with even more people between the buildings yet more stationary. Although they didn't move much they were far more interesting. One or two of them with each glance would have a slight tint to their eyes, glazed over from hopelessness or possessed by demonic influences. At one point, the tortoise witnessed someone from the crowd get grabbed and dragged deep within the alleyways without resistance. A common sight that no one even tried to stop.
When a town thrived with so much life, the value of such drops. Every day, a human would die while a dozen took the dead ones' place. Tolerant of crime and death while lacking strong morals, a town where sin was the norm. For demons like them, this place was paradise, an ideal hometown.