Home. That was where Lyre wanted to be. Where he and his family would y beside each other, comforting each other. Where they’d be in the safety of their home, never having to worry about those wolves.

  But the luxury of that easy life is long gone now.

  As he started reminiscing about his past, he remembered where he got his calm personality from.

  Throughout that year and a half of being in that rge den, Lyre got to know the dark ginger tom. He went by Slip, and was a very unusual cat. He’d sometimes go missing, and come back between the span of a few hours to two weeks. Yet whenever he was there, he’d be with Prairie; or at least, in her presence. He’d always give her personal space, and would only give her company if she needed it. Lyre couldn’t understand why she chose his father as her other mate. Her and Slip looked so happy together.

  One time when Slip once again went missing, Lyre was taking a stroll along the wide gap, when he noticed that there was all of the sudden a rge, wide path of rocks that led to the forest. Slip was the only one who’d dared to cross it, since after he showed it to everyone else, they were just incredibly unnerved by its sudden appearance.

  Lyre was too, at first. But as he saw Slip return with the occasional prey and pinecones and strange pnts like thorny vines, Lyre was convinced that it really was safe.

  Thorny vines…pinecones… Slip had used those vines to build those curtains in front of the entrance of the rge den, with the help of Prairie and the white shorthair. As for the gray and silver cat, they mysteriously vanished about a month before the rocky path appeared.

  That morning after the fight, Slip never returned. Lyre and his brother, Velvet, soon discovered that he was in the forest. But where exactly, they couldn’t figure out. While Velvet was obsessing over the strangest object any of them had seen, Lyre took his attention to a strange formation in a far, dark corner of the paw-made den. He couldn’t make it out though, since it was too well hidden.

  However, the scents that wafted from it was the concerning part; the smell of burning, dryness, and the very, very stale scent of a cat. It was too intermingled with the burnt smell for Lyre to know exactly where it came from, but a part of him insisted it had come from Slip.

  “Where are we going?” A sudden small voice ripped Lyre from his thoughts, and he was forced back into the present.

  He and the dull-colored reddish-brown wolf pup were now far from the grassnd, entering a depressing area with dark brown dirt and stones everywhere. The sun was coming from behind and looming over him like the faint feeling of guilt after killing the two other wolf pups. But surely what he was doing would be the only way for Splinter’s death to be worth it.

  “I don’t know.” Lyre wanted to say, which was the truth. He didn’t know where they were going, but he knew this was the only area they could go.

  Up ahead of them was a wide, pale tan path of dirt that looked indefinitely worse than the smaller dirt clearing. There was something about it that sent a shiver down Lyre’s spine. It might be that the random pathway was in the middle of a dark and dreary area; it might be how unsettlingly cool the ground felt beneath his paws, even with the sun's bright, hot rays beating down onto the ground. Whatever the case, he felt he needed to get out of here as quickly as he could.

  As he went further, the area around him slowly began darkening as he entered a thick mist. The sun’s yellow rays were split up into streaks; one of which hit a small, dark figure in the distance, slightly lighting up its fur and outlining the body as it id still on the ground. Lyre looked at it uneasily, his fur slowly bristling in fear. He quickened his pace.

  The mist slowly lightened up, and the light streaks vanished as the rest of the brighter rays lit up the area. Lyre continued, until the silent ambiance was disturbed.

  I’d look behind myself if I were you. That voice came again, and it’s been a good minute.

  He stopped and slowly turned around. The wolf pup wasn't anywhere to be seen. You’ve got to be kidding me. He trotted back into the mist, shivering a little as he felt the slight dampness and cool air touch his skin. “Come out here, you pup!” He yowled, looking around as his tail-tip began twitching. He narrowed his eyes at the small figure in the distance.

  Lyre prodded the body with his paw. Its fur was matted, and was shivering. He jumped back as the figure sneezed. Lyre bent down and grabbed its scruff. To his dismay, as its scent filled his nose, he almost instantly recognized the foul scent of a wolf. He wrinkled his nose as he carried the wolf pup out of the thick fog, and set it down on the bare stone.

  He took a few quick gnces around. The ground was completely stone now; compared to the dark brown dirt that only had a few stones here and there. But now that he thought about it, he started to realize that as he was walking, there started being more and more stones covering the ground. If he’d paid attention, then he would’ve noticed that the st instance of visible dirt was through the small cracks.

  The tom sat down and began grooming his own fur, which was the slightest bit wet, and shivered again as the cold air wasn't letting up. Once he finished, his once usual messy fur was nice and clean. He shook out his pelt, ruining the smoothness of the fur.

  Lyre huffed as he sat up and picked up the pup. Its cold body continued shivering. A few seconds ter, it sneezed again. Not even a heartbeat after, it began whining and whimpering in compint, and he had to set it down again.

  His fur bristled as he gred down. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he felt something on his fur- and it wasn't just the heat from the sun. It felt particurly cooler than the air itself, and it was piercing into the side of his face. He wouldn’t dare to look for the source.

  But as he turned a bit, he saw it; a cat with slightly stone gray fur, its paws, underbelly, and ear-tips as silver as the moonlight. The shorthair stared at him with widened yellow-orange eyes. The cat’s left ear was torn a bit, and the second half of its tail was missing and looked as if it was torn off. The cat was skinny and a bit small; it had barely any muscles, and its ribs were poking out from its sides.

  Lyre slightly narrowed his eyes. Something didn’t seem right about this cat. Just the way it was staring at him with that look on its face as if it had recognized him. The cat took a step back as it crouched low, ears tilted back.

  “No…it can’t be…” The she-cat whispered.

  Before another word was spoken, the cat’s ears suddenly pricked up and angled South. Then she lifted to her paws and scrambled away, breaking into a sprint for only a quarter of a minute before already panting and slowing down.

  The poor thing, starving out here. Probably should follow her. Lyre shifted his paws uncomfortably. But I don’t even know her. And yet…something deep down inside says I do. Hesitantly, he once again grabbed the wolf pup, who was quiet this time, and took a step towards where the she-cat went.

  Wherever this cat was going, Lyre knew it was away from this creepy pce. And even if his presumed destination led to a pce with barely any food, it would be his only choice. But he still needed to be careful.

  Lyre stared after the cat in the distance, then gnced down at the pup in his jaws. Hesitantly, he started walking- but not after the cat. Instead, he continued going the direction he originally went after leaving the misty area.

  Make up your mind, Lyre. He scolded himself after stopping several pawsteps ter. He forced his paws to move again, each step taking him further and further. Both his paw pads, which started aching, and the small pup, who was proceeding to make those unbearable squeaking noises again, started compining as Lyre advanced down the wide stone ground. Stepping over stray cracks in the stone and stepping in and out of shrouds of mist, he did his best to ignore the next bout of pain.

  The exposed wound was te. It started feeling warmer than usual. Time spent grooming himself, he dared to touch the wound. He was thankful to wipe away the blood shortly after he left Velvet along the odd-smelling gray path. But even still, it still felt off. If only he could find a way to smell it. Pressing his paw against it only produced a slight stinging pain. But now, as the stinging pain got worse every time the gentlest breeze touched it, Lyre began wondering why he hadn't tended to it sooner.

  It’s because I didn’t have time. He fttened his ears. When the cold pit in his stomach jabbed him, he felt a pang of regret. Of course I did…I could’ve done it at the stream, in the wolves’ territory. And then end up like Splinter… His body shivered; though, moreso to the cold as the next shroud of mist attacked him with its coldness, this time colder than the one he’d first entered. But what about the grassnd? I’ve lived there long enough to know where the nearest water source was. Instead of heading there, I just went straight home like an idiot. He shed his tail once. Don’t call yourself that. Eventually you’ll start believing it. Your self esteem will suffer for it.

  He took a deep breath through his nostrils, feeling the cold air fill his lungs, then exhaled. His nostrils fred a bit due to him being unable to breathe through his mouth.

  By the time he left the mist shroud- which took a while because it was surprisingly rge- the area around Lyre began darkening once again. The sunlight’s once warm rays were thinning a second time, and the wolf pup’s shivering increased.

  The piercing cold seeped through his fur and grabbed his skin. He sped up into a trot, then a canter, the moment he felt his body begin to shiver. No Not today. Not ever. But not even that helped. He still pushed in defiance.

  I need to get out of here! He thought as the pup sneezed again. He felt a strange feeling of concern when it coughed. I shouldn't be feeling anything for this pup. He huffed through his nostrils and gred ahead.

  So you’re not even bothering to wonder how you’re getting this cold when you have fur this long. It’s been a good minute since the voice spoke.

  Lyre froze. The moment he did, however, he gradually felt his body begin shivering as he felt a sudden bst of cold air as if he’d nded in an icy ke. Wait, where’d he get that analogy from?

  Before he could literally freeze, he was about to move again when the voice spoke.

  And I thought Splinter’s survival instincts were bad. Look, Prairie’s…son…I’m not going to help you with basic things like this. But I will tell you that this pce is never ending suffering. And what do you do to end suffering?

  Lyre’s ears fttened. Think of happy things? I don’t know.

  No, you sleep it off. It all goes away after some good rest. That pup especially needs it.

  Lyre sighed as he let go of the pup. As relieving as it was to breathe through his mouth again, he didn’t like inhaling the freezing cold air. His body started shivering more. Grumbling, he curled up into a tight ball. It took a while, but he slowly began warming up. Oh no. Do I have to curl up around that darned pup? He thought dreadfully.

  He gnced over at the pup, who was colpsed and ying onto the ground. He got up and moved closer to it, then grimaced as he slowly curled up around it.

  The body wasn't any warmer than his, but at least it took a significantly shorter amount of time for the cold to slowly ebb away. Even the pup stopped shivering. It sniffled a few times, then angled its muzzle away from him before sneezing and coughing and coughing more. It was clear that something was wrong with this pup.

  What season is it? Lyre closed his eyes.

  Summer.

  Then why does it feel like Winter?

  Rock reflects cool air and makes it ten times colder.

  Lyre knew that voice was lying. That didn’t even make the slightest bit of sense. But he also knew if he asked for crification, he wouldn’t get any.

  He let his mind wander until it went bnk, and he felt himself slowly drifting away into sleep.