Lyre waited. Tension made the air thick and difficult to breathe. The moon was a rge, imperfect circle, and was rising behind the near center-point of the far side of the fern wall. Solid rock repcing tree bark glittered in the bright light.

  The distant sound of pawsteps made Lyre’s muscles tense. He couldn't see who was or wasn't in their dens, and the only scent he could smell was blood.

  The pawsteps came closer; a few sounded quiet and soft, and some were slow and careful. Lyre already knew why.

  Lyre slunk his shoulders as the steady steps suddenly stopped.

  The voice that spoke was hushed, but raspy. “Lyre, I need you to first apologize for your behavior, then get me some decorations for this sad-looking pce.”

  The tom turned around to face The Petrifier. “I…I’m sorry. I’m really…sorry…for removing this-” He lifted and angled his head to show the object; not like there was a point in doing that. “-without your permission.”

  His ginger tail swished in satisfaction as he continued.

  “I won’t do it again.” He hesitated, then dipped his head, embarrassment further burning his pelt.

  “Oh, I know it won’t…that’s why I’ll be sitting here while you do your task.” The Petrifier motioned towards one of the dens. “Now go on.”

  No. Lyre got up. His legs would have started hurting if he had to sit for any longer.

  No. He looked around, familiarizing himself with the area. On the left, the fern certain. The back center- someone’s den. The corner where the back wall and the right wall meet, a pile of withered and dead and dried and ripped leaves, in front of and underneath a bush- Lyre stared at the hole sitting at the center of the right side of the fern wall. Quartz’s den.

  The coldness of the air mocked the stone ground. Whiskers twitched and a cold air blew. The hole grew closer.

  Inside was a reflection of Lyre. He knew it. The scent was fresh- strong, even.

  Lyre’s mouth trembled and opened at the same time, drawing in a long breath, barking himself, he crouched down.

  “Quartz?” He called in a low voice.

  The quiet sound of shuffling, groaning, then dirt scraping. Moments ter, the Bobtail’s head emerged. Her dark teal eyes widened with shock, teared up, then warmed as the she-cat, not noticing the stone object, exited her nest.

  “Lyre, you’re back,” she purred as she reached out to nuzzle the side of his face, but quickly stopped herself. “Oh! Sorry about that.”

  Lyre gazed back. He tried to smile in reassurance, but instead felt his paw lift before being pced on her head. He couldn't have control over that, nor what happened next.

  “What are you…?” She gasped as if she was doused in freezing cold water. Her cws scraped and scrambled as she hurried past him and towards the back den. But she lost her bance and tripped, nding on the ground with a muffled cnk. Her body writhed as her movements grew stiff.

  “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time…” The Petrifier purred from his spot.

  Quartz whipped her gray head around to stare at the ginger tom. “You!” Were her st words.

  Her body was stuck in a turning position, a bit crouched low in fear with her head turned and ears fttened.

  Lyre then dragged himself over to Soots den entrance, standing stiffly in front of it.

  “What’s going on…?” Asked an exhausted voice.

  It was Soot. She halfway emerged from her den. Thanks to the moonlight and her conveniently-pced nest, she noticed the two cats immediately through narrowed eyes. “The Petrifier,” she growled.

  “That’s me!” The tom said cheerfully, his eyes brightening.

  Soot gnced at Lyre. “Then why is he here?” She looked at him. “Where did you find him, anyway? I thought Molly took care of him!” Worry edged in her hostile tone.

  Lyre didn’t speak. He just stood taller, boring his expressionless gaze down at her.

  “We want peace, m’kay Soot? So how about you get out from your den, and we can talk?” The Petrifier finally got up and sounded like he was slinking towards her.

  But Soot stood her ground as Lyre turned so that he could properly see The Petrifier.

  The ginger and light sandstone orange tom gently pushed Lyre out of the way so he could stand before the she-cat instead. “Come on, Soot…there’s nothing to fear.”

  She hissed.

  “Hm. Lyre?” He took several pawsteps back while staring at the long-furred tom.

  The paw Lyre used to touch Quartz’s head felt stiff, but only for a few moments. He shook it off, still not taking his eyes on the she-cat. His heart was racing. His throat felt tight.

  Then Soot suddenly retreated, running back into the den. A long growl of frustration sounded from The Petrifier, but was drown out by a yowl of distress.

  She resurfaced with a Calico, whose left arm was, shockingly enough, facing the right way, looking good as new…other than the pnts wrapped around the wrist.

  Calico immediately began hissing and spitting upon noticing the two cats. “I should’ve known I shouldn’t have kept you here!” He raged. “You…you…treacherous, mange-furred, pile of scraps!”

  The Petrifier transferred his gre onto Calico, forcibly softening his gaze and his tone. “Oh Calico, I won’t forget you…I remember when-”

  “No time for sentimental talk! Leave now or I’ll make you!” His screech echoed across the entire clearing.

  “Ha!” His tone sounded exactly like the taunting tone when Molly talked about seeing him again.

  Calico lunged forwards, but was instantly tugged back by Soot, who managed to grab his scruff just in time.

  “Now wait-” She was ruthlessly shoved against the fern wall, stumbling through it.

  Calico shook off his pelt and lunged again.

  The Petrifier, grinning like a Cheshire cat, swiftly dodged, and watched as Calico’s enraged yowl quickly turned into pain as he nded. He casually walked up to him.

  Lyre’s ears pinned, and his gut clenched. His emotions came back, but only as horror and fear.

  “Lyre, take care of Soot.” The Petrifier unsheathed his cws. They were short but sharp. However, he didn’t pn on using them, clearly.

  Calico yowled again in pain as long, jagged, cw-mark-shaped streaks of gray formed on his fnk.

  Soot cmbered back into the clearing, spitting out leaves and staring with a terrified look on her face. “Calico!” She hurried over to him, but skidded to a halt as the ginger tom intercepted her.

  “Lyre, I said take care of her.” He snapped.

  Lyre stood there, frozen; none of his limbs had been turned to stone this time. His frantic gazed switched from Quartz’s frozen body to Soot’s nearly trembling one. If it had been Calico he was told to deal with instead, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

  Does The Petrifier know that? Lyre was too afraid to answer his own question.

  He forced himself to step towards Soot, who looked at him.

  “Don’t do this.” She pleaded.

  “You’re saying that as if you’re his dead sister.” The Petrifier snorted.

  Soot’s eyes wouldn’t wide any further. “What?” Sympathy immediately clouded her eyes. “But that’s still not a reason to do this.”

  “Uh huh, he even said he’d be willing to help me with this exact thing. In exchange for, well, nothing!” He chuckled a bit obnoxiously loudly.

  Lyre couldn't act surprised. He knew he wouldn’t have gotten anything out of this anyway. “I just want to get this over with. Don’t bother me again once we’re done.” He snarled, voice clouded with spite. He was thankful he could use his rage to cover up what would’ve otherwise been guilt.

  “I can bother you all I want,” he retorted boldly, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He shed his tail over to the bck she-cat. “Now I’m going to tell you one more time.”

  Lyre wanted to leap at him, but he easily knew how that would end. Sighing in defeat and irritation, he turned towards Soot. “Whatever I’m about to do…just know I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Yes you did! We could’ve been more than happy to welcome you in!” Soot wailed. “All you had to do was control yourself and not take the colr!”

  He wasn't about to ask how she knew about the colr incident. “You’re saying that as if it’s easy to just casually move along after the death of a sibling.” His voice was shaky. And the disappearance of your entire family. His thoughts reminded him.

  “Why can’t you understand, Lyre? She wants you to forget about her. That’s why she distracted you with cleaning out their prey hoard and going hunting with them.” The Petrifier hissed.

  Soot gred at him, only to see the already stone body of Calico. Her expression darkened.

  “Come on, Lyre!” The Petrifier shouted, “this is no different from you attacking Velvet! I don’t get what all the sudden hesitation is for!”

  Lyre’s tail-tip quickly flicked back and forth as his once slit pupils rounded and fur bristled. His quick heart rate transferred over to his lungs, and he grew dizzy. Anger and confusion blended together, making him more overwhelmed.

  Images fshed before his vision as he lunged forwards; the reddish-brown wolf, Velvet, Calico; everyone he hated. Prairie, Whirlwind…Splinter. Everyone he loved. Everyone who died. Everyone who was st seen with those they cared about. At least they died with someone to remember them.

  But as Lyre sunk in his teeth, feeling his cws pierce flesh despite the medium-length fur, the thought of him dying alone struck him like lightning.

  With each tear and drawn and spilled blood, the fury gradually became overtaken by eversting and unresolved hatred and grief. The two emotions practically worked together, giving his blows more power.

  He stood over the mangled body, vision blurred and head spinning. Patches of white and light tan fur were littered across the ground. Exposed parts of his skin, however, were clean.

  The Petrifier’s praise was drowned out by the strong, sick feeling in Lyre’s stomach. He tried imagining what it would feel like if he had any reaction at all to what he just did. But the only thing he felt was the same thing he felt when he witnessed the most gruesome death anyone could ever imagine.

  Dawn. Lyre id, eyes open and expression bnk. The stone object was off. His body felt strangely cold for an early summer morning. It refused to move from the emotional and physical energy that was completely drained.

  Tall, light brown bdes of grass obscured his vision, but he could make out a singur figure outlined in the pink light.

  The figure was directly in front of him, but blurry as if he’d gotten water in his eyes. It was crouched in front of him, paws neatly tucked. Gentle, quiet, heart-wrenching sobs escaped the cat’s mouth.

  Lyre’s vision never cleared, even though his breathing was normal. Not shaky, terrified breaths, but calm, slow breaths; as if he was drifting off to sleep.

  Sleep…that’s what I really need. He slowly closed his eyes. As he did, though, the cries only increased into wails.