The only golden-yellow light that shone was from the shadows as Lyre lifted a paw and pressed it against the hard stem of an already dead bush. At first he felt the roughness of the bark beneath his paw pads, but flinched and stepped back once the texture changed to a cold smoothness.

  He stared right at the gray spot, which didn’t move when he pulled away. He held his paw again, watching as the spot spread downwards, then outwards to the other branches. Its speed was that of spilled blood.

  “Why are you having me do this?” Lyre asked the watching shadows as he removed his paw from the bush, which was completely stone now. “I get it’s to make sure I get used to this…thing…but you still never told me what exactly you want me to do.”

  “You just asked two totally different questions,” a raspy meow replied.

  Lyre frowned, feeling an itch of irritation begin scratching at his fur. “At least answer one of them.”

  “Hmm…” The eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Well…”

  Realizing he was never getting an answer, Lyre sighed to turn around.

  A few days have passed since Lyre arrived at where he was told would be his new home. It sure didn’t feel like it, that’s for sure.

  Another thing he was told was that both of them would be going somewhere. Lyre didn’t know why, but he felt his fur prickling with unease when The Petrifier disclosed this to him. If the two were simply just visiting, there’d be no reason for him to practice using this new ability.

  Lyre also found himself being accompanied by that cold presence more often, and although it didn’t do anything but literally be by his side, he felt it was messing up his focus. Ever since his first encounter with it, his dreams felt cold, yet comforting. What would otherwise be horrible nightmares and bad dreams were instead scenarios he could actually escape from. The pain he felt when he was awake was absent. He didn’t like the false sense of hope his dreams were giving him.

  On the second day, Lyre’s sleep was constantly disturbed; every time he slept, Splinter kept appearing in his dreams, her death repeating itself as if it had just happened yesterday. It only stopped on the night leading to the third day, where his dreams turned “normal”- whatever normal means anymore.

  Upon waking on the third day, Lyre felt more confident. His muscles finally stoped aching. He had enough alone time to take care of his own health. Even his wound had began scarring up.

  Now, on the fourth day, Lyre’s training paid off; everything in the clearing was stone, anything that touched it also stone, same for the things that touched those, and so on. He felt confident he had proper control of this gift.

  When he asked about turning things normal after getting turned to stone, The Petrifier simply told him he’ll take care of it.

  At the same time, something deep inside wass growing; worry? More guilt? The effects of the memories finally taking their toll? He hasn’t figured it out yet.

  “Are you ready for another few days of traveling?” The Petrifier asked, present-day.

  Lyre faced him, ears and tail up. He simply nodded, the sunlight making his eyes shine with a willful anticipation.

  Smiling, the tom headed began heading away from the lowering sun, and into the forest once more. But this time, he had a look on his face as if he never had an intention to return.

  Lyre trudged along, gazing into the beautiful blue sky.

  Snap.

  It was a bit quiet. Whoever was there was pretty good at being sneaky.

  But Lyre knew what to do as The Petrifier motioned with his tail before going ahead. Lyre stopped in his tracks, looking around.

  There was more than plenty of sunlight to search for the culprit, considering the sky hasn’t changed to a darker shade of blue.

  And then, he saw it.

  Sticking out to the side from behind a thicker tree that still had its normal, almond-gray colored bark. A small and thin tail poked out from the side. The short fur was charcoal-colored.

  Lyre crouched low, then stalked along the smooth grass, its bdes easily chipping off as he stepped on it. He couldn't hear the bdes as they touched the ground, but whatever was there gave a nervous flick of its tail.

  He turned, seeing a small cat’s body cowering from behind the tree. The kitten stared at him with wide, dark goldenrod yellow eyes as it came into full view, nearly trembling. Its bck ears were fttened.

  The young cat itself had, in Lyre’s opinion, a strange-looking coat; charcoal-colored fur on its head, neck, front shoulders and soles, hindquarters and tail, along with a white muzzle, cheek fur, throat fur, arms, chest, underbelly, and legs.

  Lyre stopped crouching as he eyed the kitten. It was about a third of Velvet’s size, if he could even remember what he looked like. But Lyre still looked bigger than the scared creature.

  No one spoke for a long while, until a demanding growl escaped Lyre’s throat.

  “What are you doing here?” The spite in his tone came from nowhere. He felt an unexpined hatred towards everything; himself for getting himself into this situation; himself again for dismissing the rumors and for only a second believing The Petrifier is actually a good but misunderstood cat; his gut for telling him anything he does beyond this point is-

  “I w- was just…wandering.” The small cat stammered. Judging by the pitch of its voice, it definitely sounded like a young cat; like Velvet, but higher-pitched. “I wouldn’t even have known this forest would just…turn to stone like that!” The kitten bunched itself into a protective crouch, wrapping its tail around its body.

  Despite feeling a sliver of pity, he forced his eyes to narrow condescendingly. “‘Wandering’ can get you killed.” The memory of being in the forest with the wolves immediately popped into his mind. “Now run back the other direction before you find out what I mean.”

  At the threat, Lyre’s ears fttened against his head, which he quickly turned away. Stupid! What was that?! Is this how far I’ve gone?

  A moment ter, the kitten seemed to finally process the demand, because it let out a quiet scared whimper, then the sound of paws scrambling on the grass sounded for a while before finally fading.

  Threatening to kill a kitten. What's become of you? He imagined his parents’ voices speaking to him. I thought you were caring.

  Then came The Petrifier’s voice, the sound of it distant like it was in his head again. “He doesn’t mind hurting young animals. Isn’t that right?”

  I do mind. I didn’t want to hurt Velvet, but he made me do it. If I hadn’t killed those other wolf pups, Splinter’s death would’ve been in vain. Lyre looked back ahead, and saw that the kitten was peeking from behind a stone tree in the distance.

  Please, just…leave. He wished, as if the kitten could also read minds. Leave before you really do end up getting killed. He felt his expression soften as he held the cat’s gaze for a little longer.

  “Dusk!” A yowl came from very far away; Lyre had to strain his ears to even hear it.

  But the kitten, presumably Dusk, immediately shot up his ears and whipped his head towards the direction of the voice. His body followed, but he gnced at Lyre one more time with a quizzical look on his face before bounding away, inaudibly yelling something back.

  With a sigh, Lyre stood himself up. He looked around one more time, triple-checking to see if anyone else was there. Seeing no one else, he turned to the direction he was heading, then bent down his neck to sniff at the ground.

  He breathed in the scent of stone, the wooded smell of the trees, as well as the still fresh scent of cat. I don’t know what happened to me tracking scents. He thought as he slowly began walking along the scent trail.

  The trail led to the fading sound of whatever birds were crazy enough not to flee from earlier, where Lyre found himself in a wide clearing. Remembering being in this same clearing, he knew to turn a bit to the left, where he eventually heard the sound of rushing water.

  It’s that damn river. He turned his head around until he saw the ginger tom sitting at the bank, spping at the water. The water droplets quickly transformed into small stone pebbles a few seconds ter and hit the ground.

  Lyre carefully approached him, frowning and judging silently.

  Suddenly the tom’s head fixated on an irregur movement in the water. As the current pushed it towards the two, the object suddenly stopped moving, then sunk out of view.

  “...okay, whatever.” The Petrifier grumbled.

  What are you even trying to do? Fish? Well that’s not how you do it. Lyre thought bitterly.

  The Petrifier looked at him. “Do you mind? I’m trying to fish.” He said in a soft growl.

  “But you already ate…” Lyre watched as the fish resurfaced, but then swam back into the depths. “And we’re wasting time, whatever you want me to do. Weren’t we supposed to go somewhere?”

  He rolled his eyes as he sat up. He held out his paw, pointing straight across the rive. A few moments ter, a wide section of water slowed to a halt, then grew more opaque as it grayed. Once the stone bridge completely reached the other side, The Petrifier trotted across it easily.

  Lyre quietly followed, already feeling the mud beneath his paws as the two walked into a wide dirt area.

  To their left was the bck pit, still steaming. Realizing this, Lyre took a deep breath. Oh…so that’s where we’re going. What he wants me to do, I don’t think I want to know anymore.