Pink flooded the dawn sky. Trees were everywhere, and the birds took their turn chirping. An absent breeze blew against Lyre’s face, forcing his eyes open only to make them water before forcing them back shut.

  It felt like the exact same dawn Splinter was killed; the dark blue and pink sky, the peaceful singing of birds, and the growling of hunger that sounded from the only two animals who haven’t eaten yet.

  I guess it’s been a few days since we st ate, huh? Lyre got up, thankful that he had reached his alleged new home the night before, and woke from a needed short rest.

  “Hungry?” The Petrifier asked from behind.

  Lyre slowly turned around as the sharp pain of hunger stabbed his stomach. He nodded.

  “Find something. There’s plenty of prey around here. I’ll take the wolf pup, though.” The Petrifier strode over to Cricket. “You!”

  Cricket, who was still asleep, suddenly stumbled upwards, blinking awake. “Huh? What?”

  “Let’s go.” The ginger tom jerked his head towards the direction where they came.

  “Now wait- we haven’t eaten for…a while. Can’t you just get us food?” Lyre fttened his ears against another sharp pain of hunger.

  The Petrifier rolled his eyes. “You’re definitely helping me after this.” He whipped around and trotted away, stabbing the air with his bck nose.

  Lyre was too hungry too give a reaction. Once the two disappeared behind one of the shadow-covered trees, Lyre suddenly felt his fur prickle as he looked around. As he did, he felt the stone object that was around his neck.

  Shoot, I almost forgot I had this thing on…why did The Petrifier want me to put it on anyway, if I don’t even have the abilities that he does? Lyre lifted a paw and felt the object.

  The forest looked almost exactly like the one in his nightmare; except the almost-gray colored trees weren’t twisted, the ground was grassy with uneven and misshapen patches of dirt, all the bushes he could see were gray and leafless, and not even the dawn light could brighten up the shadowy trees, which encircled around the clearing.

  There was the stale scent of something that smelled like damp grass, yet at the same time, another foul smell Lyre couldn't describe.

  Lyre closed his eyes, feeling a cool, absent breeze pressing against the side of his face and making the already cold air colder. He was about to question it until he felt the light hint of moisture in the air.

  Squinting open his eyes, he took a longer look at the trees, the thoughts he needed to think now showing up and instead repced with hungry. Need to eat. Starving. But the one thought that did manage to slip through was the one that made him double-check his confirmation about the reason for that cold feeling.

  Lyre’s whiskers twitched as he felt his ears pin against the now moving coldness. It had disappeared, but soon after returned to brush up against his side. He shivered.

  The abnormality only vanished again, but this time didn’t come back. Ears perking up, Lyre heard nothing; not even the distant sound of cricket chirping that began to quiet and overp with the birds.

  “Lyre!” The Petrifier called fiercely, snapping Lyre out of his staring into the moving shadows that tilted away from the golden light that beamed through the trees.

  A huge orange ball sat just above the horizon, only saving the two cats from being blinded thanks to the varying thickness of the trees. The sky was its usual orange and blue gradient, the only thing standing out being the dark gray-ish blue spotted streaks.

  Despite the air starting to warm up, as Lyre turned to face the ginger tom, he felt his fnk touch something cold. His fur naturally bristled, but he couldn't turn his head.

  “Come on.” The Peetrifier beckoned Lyre with his tail as he swung around, the sun making his fur significantly more visible.

  Lyre followed him with weak, slow pawsteps as he trotted away from the sun and into the thick forest. Is it possible to eat grass? Lyre asked himself. Suddenly a strong, potent smell made his mouth water and his pace quicken.

  The Petrifier smirked as Lyre speed-walked past him, being careful not to bump into the trees. He stared ahead. His gaze was locked on the air itself, as if he could see the scent as it travelled through the air and towards him.

  And then he saw it; a couple rabbits, both stone-colored. Or, they certainly looked like rabbits. They were huge. And even though they were stone, Lyre could still see the texture of the fur. It looked ruffled but clean, like they were hardly touched.

  As their color slowly turned to normal, Lyre pawed at the ground impatiently before immediately digging in, taking ravaging bites out of the prey.

  Cricket, who suddenly looked slightly smaller than him, dragged himself up to the other rge carcass. He sniffed at it loudly before taking an uncertain bite.

  The Petrifier looked into one of the trees above, narrowing his eyes at a brown and light tan-feathered bird with bck markings on its face.

  Lyre turned at the sound of his pawsteps, momentarily stopping his eating to lick the blood from his lips. He watched the tom, which quickly proved to be a bad idea.

  The bird chirped a beautifully oblivious song as it sat peacefully on a high branch. The chirping quickly transformed into panicked screeching as its wings, which it tried to open, lost their color. The first fp moved the feathers, but shortly their motion ceased as quickly as the wings themselves. The bird fell off-bance, and as it started falling, The Petrifier quickly trotted over to the base of the tree. He crouched down, then leapt powerfully upwards, his tail about a third of a wolf-length away from the ground.

  The bird’s screech became muffled, then cut off as its body was tightly csped in the tom’s paws.

  Landing with his prey pinned to the ground and blood oozing from its neck, The Petrifier lifted his head. He removed his paw as the wings turned normal. Catching Lyre’s gaze, his tail swished with satisfaction. “Such impressive hunting skills, wouldn’t you agree?” He meowed proudly.

  Lyre’s fur had another reason to bristle.

  He scoffed. “So anyway, I’m sure you’re curious as to why I decided to bring the wolf pup along,” he said as the feathers began turning to stone.

  “Not really…” Lyre lowered his head down to take another bite.

  “Trust me. You’d want to hear it. Unless you want me too keep him instead.”

  Can I finish eating first? Lyre thought gingerly.

  Cricket let oud a loud sigh in Lyre’s direction, nearly making him gag at the smell of canine breath and blood.

  Clearly feeling his energy return, Lyre gred at him and bared his teeth.

  The pup stumbled backwards in confusion.

  “Great to see you two getting energy again. We have a long few days ahead of us.” The Petrifier said casually through a stuffed mouth.

  As Lyre looked back down at his half-eaten rabbit, he caught a glimpse of the tom picking off the feathers like they were twigs lodged in hard soil. He suddenly lost his appetite.

  The moment he pushed away the rabbit, the wolf pup, who already finished its rabbit, went over to eat his. Greedy mutt.

  Lyre licked his paw, wiping off the blood from both them and his face. As he did, it just came to his attention that The Petrifier wanted him to help him with something, and that, according to him, their next few days were going to be long. He narrowed his eyes.

  Whatever he needs me to help him with, I don’t think I’m allowed to decline. He thought regrettably as remembered the discovery him and Quartz made shortly before his departure.

  It would be like leaving a cat who helped me move forward after a tough time. It would be like…leaving Splinter. He grit his teeth, forcing down the incoming thought of the beige she-cat.

  His sister. Her horrible death. The ck of reaction- if there even was one- from Velvet. But he couldn't expect him to grieve the same way. It’s no reason to hate him more.

  It’s my fault for being selfish. I was too concerned about the wrong thing. The pit in his stomach didn’t feel as intense; likely because of his self-admitted guilt. All the choices he made that led up to this, or whatever The Petrifier had pnned…even if he were to apologize to everyone, their token of forgiveness would be his death. He was sure of it.

  Blinking away the thought, Lyre went on to groom his fur. Something he really needs to do more often. You’re going to live after the apology, Lyre. They’re going to forgive you…well…maybe not Calico. But the rest will. Quartz will. She’s always forgiving and nice. But there are still come cats who will never forgive him, no matter what he does.

  He used his free paw to dig his cws into the ground. They won’t forgive me…because-

  “Quit that!” The Petrifier spat. “I can’t have you acting like this all the time. I need you paying attention to what I’m about to tell you.”

  Lyre stopped; not his sulking, but his grooming. “Spit it out then.” His tone sounded scarily harsh, like how Prairie would speak to Velvet. Upon realizing this, normally Lyre would freeze up and crouch down, trembling his paws off in fear.

  But not this time. Not even the intrigued expression on the muscur tom’s face phased him.

  “I feed you after you don’t eat for two days, and this is how you thank me? You’re welcome you ungrateful tabby.” He flicked his tail-tip in annoyance and spoke again before Lyre could talk back. “Alright. So you know how that object around your neck works, right?”

  “...no?” Lyre felt around with his left paw for the stone object that he hadn’t been paying attention to ever since he put it on.

  He sat down with his legs outstretched to his side. “Then what do you know?”

  “I just said I don’t know anything about…how your power works.” He met his gaze, which was sharpening and making the air cold again. For just a brief moment, Lyre’s bristling fur began to prickle with unease. He forced his fur to lie ft at st.

  Suddenly The Petrifier snapped his head towards Cricket. “You! Get over here!”

  “Again?” Cricket compined through whines and whimpers as he dragged his paws through the grass. He stopped with his ears at the side of his head. He licked his nose a few times when the tom made eye contact, and his ears tilted back. His limp tail was wagging low at a slow speed, which was strange to Lyre.

  Is he seriously excited about this? What's there to be excited about? Still, he had a feeling he knew where this was going. And it wasn’t going to end well.

  “Lyre, I want you to go to this pup, and turn his body to stone.” If he didn’t sound annoyed enough, he certainly did when the said “pup”.

  Immediately Lyre’s attitude from earlier was forgotten about as his bronze eyes widened, his pupils following. He tried to move his paws, but couldn't. Was he frozen in fear?

  Sliding his legs underneath him to stand up, the tom narrowed his eyes. Behind him, a ray of golden sunlight escaped from the trees, highlighting his figure as an intimidating dark silhouette. His shadow loomed over the ground, looking like it wanted to lunge out at Lyre.

  “Don’t tell me now you’re afraid to use my power,” he said in an almost hushed but calm, lightly mocking voice. “You’ve done it plenty of times before.”

  A step back.

  “So what's different this time?” He took a pawstep forwards as the light brown-striped tom took another step back.

  “There isn’t one,” he murmured, feeling his paws take another step back. He was trying to keep still. He really was. His brain seemed to have other pns, though. As if it just now decided to think hard about the rumors.

  “Okay then. attack the pup like he commanded his mother to kill Splinter.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Although, don’t you think that’s what happened? Clearly he talks a lot. And even though he’s a pup, he’s also quite smart. No wolf pup from what I know can track down two hares.”

  “Oh, so that’s what they were….no wonder they tasted so good!” Cricket’s ears and tail immediately perked up as his bright yellow eyes shone.

  “Focus,” The Petrifier warned, giving the pup a look.

  Cricket let his ears and tail droop again, killing the light in his eyes. “But I’m only a pup. Why can he not just find another piece of food?”

  “He doesn’t mind hurting young animals. Isn’t that right?” He switched his dark gaze onto Lyre, who was crouched low.

  Lyre felt hot with shame and embarrassment. His stiff legs refused to move. Why did I even behave that way towards him? He hung his head low to look away. But as he did, he noticed the gray color of his paws. Angling his head to follow the color up to his legs, it didn’t take long for him to realize what the tom did.

  He silently looked back at the tom, who was letting out raspy mrrows of ughter.

  “And besides…if that she-cat lived after getting freed, I’m sure you’ll live too. Maybe with a bit of trauma from a ‘near-death experience’ or whatever, but at least be happy you’re alive!”

  His voice sounded optimistic, but his pupils were slit, and his tail-tip was twitching. It was clear how he really felt about this.

  Lyre faced the wolf pup, tail shing from his realization. His paws and legs were no longer stiff, but before he could charge forwards, the sudden aching pain attacked first, kicking him over.

  Cricket stared, sounding like he was murmuring gratitude beneath his breath.

  Showing his real emotion again, The Petrifier stood over Lyre’s colpsed body. “You can only turn parts of someone or something to stone if it’s up close. Like when you grabbed the pup’s muzzle with your tail, and the muzzle couldn't be opened again. Or what you did to Root.”

  Root. A strange, sharp pain stabbed through Lyre, grasping onto his chest tightly. No! Stop! I’m not supposed to feel guilt for potentially killing another wolf! They deserved it. They all do.

  He rose from the ground to gre at the pup. He tried to pretend that this pup was the true reason for Splinter’s death; that it was because of him the reddish-brown wolf seeked the group of cats, and killed off the most vulnerable one.

  Just thinking about how she was too vulnerable, practically defenseless, made a deep growl rise from his throat.

  “Yes, good. She would have wanted you to do this. She’d want you to avenge her death. Think of your ultimate goal in the end. This is just one important step.” His speech was the wood to the bzing fire.

  Cws outstretched, Lyre bunched up his muscles, despite the pain, and lunged forwards, catching the pup’s shoulder.

  Cricket yelped loudly in pain, the yelp echoing through the forest and off the trees.

  The cry was continuous. Ear-piercing. Weakening. Until it stopped altogether.

  Lyre stepped off of the solid body, staring down. The expression was just as it was when he’d attacked it; the look of true terror, eyes gzed with fear, its body being stuck in a frozen motion of writhing. The eyes seemed to look directly into his, asking for mercy and forgiveness for being so annoying.

  But Lyre felt nothing.