"Windy, you should try on some of these guys' clothes!" Spere giggled.

"What? It's like freezing! I am not getting undressed for anything," he laughed, and sat down on the end of the bed.

Spere sighed, "Yeah, me too," and closed the closet door. "Too bad it isn't always warm outside. It'd be nice to try on clothes and go swimming and stuff."

"Yeah," Windy said. "You know, my building back at camp has a fire in it. It'll be warm there. Not warm enough to swim or anything, but decent. You could sleep in there and I could sleep in yours."

Spere started, "Windy, you don't have to give me your building just to- wait a minute. Fire. There's a fireplace in the living room!"

Windy stood, "You're right! We could use the lighters you found... the wood by the back door..."

"Maybe some clothes?" Spere suggested, pointing at the closet behind her.

"And wood doors!" Windy added. Spere was genuinely excited; she'd never made a fire before, and the last time she'd been around any sort of warmth from a fire was back at Boss' hut. She tried not to think about him and what had happened.

"Alright, you get the wood planks from the back door and I'll start gathering clothes and paper and other things I can find," Spere said.

"Good idea," Windy said, and left the room. Spere gently sat herself on the bed for a moment. It was surprisingly comfortable and bouncy and fluff, but dusty. The grime clung to her clothes and made a slight poof around her as she sat down. She laid down after a moment, relaxing in the warmth of the bed. This house was unlike any she'd ever seen before. The people who'd lived here before had really defended and taken care of it. She closed her eyes, basking in the moment of comfort and peace. Soon they'd even have a fire! She didn't want to leave, but knew she couldn't stay in a place surrounded by death.

She opened her eyes to a small pressure on her chest. Cat paws. But not the black kitten this time; a tall, lanky white cat, of course, without a face.

"What do you want?" Spere grumbled. The cat nudged it's blank face at the belt of her pants, and then pulled a necklace from her pocket with his teeth. The golden cross necklace.

"Hey, that's mine, cat," she said drowsily.

"I don't want it," the cat hissed. "You need it! Give it to someone you care about and their life will be protected by us." Spere squinted at the cat, and then sat up to stare at him.

She said slowly, "My necklace? Is that how you speak to me? What happened to the girl and the boy then?"

The cat curled up in her lap, twitching his tail, and hissed, "I'll show you once you sleep. We can warn you and protect you from others, but not from your own foolishness."

"Alright," Spere said, and layed back down. The cat moved, curled up on her belly and began to purr warmly. Spere enjoyed the warmth she felt, although she was still uneasy about the cat. Eventually, she drifted to sleep, and sure enough, was presented with a dream.

This time, she was standing nearby, invisible, watching others' lives play out as the white cat floated beside her. She was in the same bedroom, although standing in a corner now.

The boy whom she'd found dead in the baby room walked into the bedroom, grinning, followed by a woman Spere recognized from somewhere.

The cat explained, "The woman you found. His lover. Dead, now. Killed by his foolishness."

In a swirl of colour, the scene changed. They were in the baby room now. It was clean and organized. The girl stood over the crib, gently rocking it, as a baby cried.

"Their child," the cat said. After a moment, the scene shifted a third time. Now, Spere was standing in the back room, watching the boy use the end of a hammer to peel iron nails from boards of wood on the door. Then, he pulled the planks off, and then tested it, by opening the door smoothly with a creak.

The scene changed, once again, and Spere was back in the bedroom. She had her eyes on the floor; she could hear well enough to know the boy and his lover were having sex.

"Do I have to watch this?" She groaned.

The cat growled, "Spere, look. Look at her face." Daring for a moment, Spere did look up. And gasped. The woman he was with was not the same woman on the floor of the grocery store or the woman who had had his baby. "His mistress," the cat explained. The scene faded into darkness, until Spere and the cat were alone together. "The mistress grew jealous."

"Where is the baby?" Spere asked.

"Alive. The mistress pretends the child is hers. But, the mistress is gullible and dangerous. The child needs rescuing, which can only be done at the death of the mistress."

"Oh, that's what this is about? Getting me to kill someone?" Spere asked. But then she said, "Alright, I'll do it. But you won't make me kill the baby, will you?"

"The baby isn't a baby any longer, Spere. The mistress killed them years after the scenes I showed you. The child is 5 or so of age now. And of course, as I said, the spare necklace is yours to give to whomever you wish us to spare."

Spere nodded. "Was it you who saved me when I got stabbed?"

"Which time?" The cat joked. Then, he purred, "Yes. You'll see now your recent stab wound won't get infected. We've cleansed it for you."

"Thank you," Spere said. "Are you the black kitten? The one we've named Soul?"

"No, but he is my eyes and ears, so we are connected. If I were to appear in the real world, I'd be as I am now, but blind. I send messengers for me instead. The black cat will bring good luck for you and bad luck for your foes. He's protection, so keep him dear."

"Is he like the necklaces? If I gave him to someone, would he protect them?" Spere asked. The cat thought for a moment, resting his tail around Spere's shoulders.

Then, he whispered, "Perhaps I and he would grant you that if I see the boy to be worthy enough."

"The boy?"

"I'm a part of God, Spere. I know you want to protect Windy. Protect him we shall, as long as you love him most."

Spere was awoken by Windy's hand on her shoulder, gently tapping her.

"Spere, you fell asleep," he said.

"I'm aware," she mumbled. "Sorry. I never got kindling for the fire."

"No, it's okay. I managed to get a small one going, and I raided the kitchen and found some canned soup and some pans. I wanted to wake you up so you could eat."

Spere blinked. "Wait, you made hot soup?"

"Yeah?"

"By yourself? And you made the fire by yourself? And let me sleep?"

He shrugged, "Well, I know you've had a bit of a rough time so I thought you'd need the rest." He gently patted the black kitten on her lap, "And he needed some rest, too." Spere felt something she'd hadn't before. A warm vibrancy, a vivid appreciation for Windy. It wasn't romance, she figured. But rather, simple thankfulness for him. A love for him. He didn't leave her behind, even as she was wounded.

She thought about the cut in her side. It still ached greatly. It hurt to walk, and the scab rubbed against her clothes uncomfortably. But she managed to ignore it, and she knew it would heal fine with God's protection. Ignoring the pain in her side from the swift movement after having slept, Spere sat up and hugged Windy as he leaned over her. He seemed caught off-guard and unsure how to react. It took a moment, but he hugged her back. Tightly.

"Thank you," was all she said. Then, she let go, and jumped out of the bed, and made her way to the living room, which was surprisingly warm. A bowl of soup was waiting for her on the table. She ate it hungrily, enjoying the warmth of the fire as Windy ate his beside her. Spere asked, "How much more food was there?"

"Quite a bit. We can take some home if we find backpacks but we will probably have to come back." Spere nodded excitedly. It was overwhelming and blessful to find that much food. The night was short. After such a long day, Windy passed out on the couch shortly after eating. Spere wasn't quite ready to sleep yet, though, after her nap. She threw some more planks on the fire, and then sat on the couch beside Windy.

After a moment of indecisiveness and temptation, she rested her head on his shoulder, and pulled the blankets over them both. Windy stirred for a moment, and put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. She didn't mind, and instead, relaxed and melted into his shape. It was blissful, really, and she closed her eyes to savor the moment. It wasn't just the fire that kept her warm now. Soul curled up beside them.

Spere was the first to wake up. It was early morning, and freezing. The fire mere coals now, and Spere could feel a rush of wind seeping in from the doors. She shivered, but didn't want to move from Windy's side. Instead, she lifted her head, and turned to admire his face.

She couldn't understand why her feelings for him had changed. Had he changed? Despite the cold, Spere stayed put until Windy began to wake, deep in thought. The reason she stayed put was less about him, and more simply out of laziness. But, they did need to get their show on the road. Windy stirred, and Spere stood up from the couch and stretched. She wondered where the kitten had gone.

"Morning..." Windy mumbled, and stretched as well.

"We've been here long enough. We should get going," Spere said.

Windy sighed, "Alright, sure. Are there any bags here we can take food in?" Spere hesitated, then made her way past the living room and into the kitchen.

Over her shoulder, she said, "You check the bedroom." Windy took a moment before standing from the couch and moving through the hall and into the adult bedroom. Spere opened each cabinet, and checked below the sink, but didn't find any bags. After a minute or so, Windy paced back into the living room, two backpacks in hand.

"Found some underneath the bed," he said. "They seem like emergency bags. Had some clothes and canned goods and water bottles and even some medical stuff. I left most of that in them, but took out the clothes." Spere took one of the bags from him with a thanks, and began filling it with stock from the cabinets energetically. He did the same alongside her. It didn't take long for the bags to grow heavy and full. After a bit more shuffling around the house for anything they had missed, the two stepped out the door and into the cold, and began making their way down the street, Soul trotting after them the best he could along the ice. Small flurries of snow floated in the air around them.

They walked in silence, leaving behind them a trail of shallow footprints in the dusted layer of snow over the ice. They didn't stop at any more houses; they'd lost enough time as it was. However, losing time was not their only problem of concern.

Take, for example, the distant sounds and howls they heard, echoing in the far distance. Likely from a pack of canines. The noises didn't seem to worry Spere nor Windy for a long while, but as they walked, limbs sore and fingers numb, they couldn't help but notice the howls growing louder and closer with each passing moment. It wasn't unlike dogs to travel and make yodeling sounds like they were; however, it was unusual for them to do so without having been provoked. Which would beg the question: what exactly would a pack of canines be chasing? Windy and Spere got their answer as long and fearful minutes passed and the wind picked up ever so slightly and dramatically. They heard a yell, a shout, a warning, of a boy.

At this point, Spere had turned around in the road, wide eyed and wary, as Windy stood behind her, a hand on her arm. Squinting her eyes, she managed to see through the diluted falling snow two teenage boys, running alongside each other, with ripped layered clothes, one with very dark skin and the other pale and gangly. Behind them, a small pack of 5 or 6 medium sized mutts. Which, in this day and age, was lethal.

"Run!" The dark-skinned boy shouted, his voice thick and weary and scared.

Spere quickly turned over to Windy, wide-eyed still, and gasped, "We don't have any weapons!"

Windy nodded frightfully, "Then we have to run." Quickly, he gripped Spere's hand in his, and pulled her behind him as they sprinted in the opposite direction down the street, skidding on ice, and towards where their camp should soon be. Windy shouted behind them breathlessly as they ran, "You two! Follow us!" The two boys didn't respond, although Spere figured they'd heard, since they hadn't parted ways, and instead were catching up to Spere and Windy now. The dogs panted and howled far behind them in excitement.

One of the boys shouted, his voice more high-pitched and hoarse, "Should we drop our bags?!"

Spere took a split second to think before responding, panting, "No, if a dog gets on us, we'll need them to shield ourselves!"

The boy responded with a slight "hmph" of acknowledgment. It was difficult to sprint and speak at the same time.

After a second, Windy shouted, "Quick! That house over there!" And pointed to a small but tall three-story home a few meters up ahead.

"What? There's not even a door! They'll catch us!" the dark boy shouted angrily.

Windy spat back, "No! Look at the small top window! It's obviously a loft! We can protect ourselves there until the dogs go away!"

"And if you're wrong?" The pale boy asked.

"Then we're dead meat anyways," Spere said. They raced for the home then, not saying anything further, and pushing themselves through the open doorway, up a flight of stairs, and then frantically climbed a thin wooden ladder as they heard the sounds of dog claws clicking on tile and wood flooring in the rooms below them. Somehow, miraculously, after a long moment of panic and adrenaline and fear, the four managed to climb the ladder just in the nick of time, safely on the small wooden loft, layered with blankets, and Windy was the one to pull the ladder up and rest it on top of the loft beside them. And, also miraculously, Spere had managed to grab poor and terrified Soul before she'd climbed up the ladder. The dogs jumped up below them, standing on their hind legs and growling fiercely, but didn't managed to get even within a foot of the group. They all breathed heavily, and slowly let themselves calm with relief in silence. They sat silently for a few seconds, coming to terms with what had just happened.

"What a morning," Windy muttered.

"Got that right," one of the boys said.

After a moment, Spere asked, "What're your names?" The two seemed like genuinely kind and young people to Spere. They seemed younger than she, but not less tough. However, after the incident with Fallen World- she gently touched the bruise beneath her shirt- it would take a long time before she could trust anyone again. The dark boy answered, pulling off his black hood and exposing his thick dreadlock hair.

"The name's Rebel, and this is my romancer, Cloudy."

Windy piped up, a worried look in his eyes, "Wait, did you say your necromancer?"

Spere couldn't help but chuckle, "You can't even read, how do you even know what a necromancer is? But no, he said romancer, as in lover." The second boy shyly waved.

"Well you've always gotta be careful with magic," Windy chuckled. "So he meant lovers? Like us?" That caught Spere off-guard.

She wanted to go home, with Fairy Tale and Dynamite and Half-Height and Mayhem. She deeply missed the few moments her and Stonehenge had shared while scavenging. She wanted to feel like that again. Safe, at ease, at peace, and genuinely content. She gently fingered the cross on her necklace, and touched the one in her pocket with her other hand. She didn't think she'd ever feel at ease again.

But she thought about last night with Windy. She'd felt at ease then, hadn't she?

"Yes, like us," she said, genuinely. She'd made up her mind. She wanted to be with Windy. She thought for a moment after that. She also wanted to find the child she'd heard about in her dream. "We can't stay here all day," Spere said. "Me and Windy've got places to be and I'm sure you two do too. Oh, I'm Spere, by the way."

Rebel nodded, "But how? We can't risk trying to get past those mutts." Spere turned to Windy, but his eyes were focused past Rebel and Cloudy, staring straight at the light of the small window.

Spere's eyes widened, "Windy, no."

Windy grinned, "Oh, but yes." Cloudy seemed very anxious, picking at his nails and eyes wide.

Spere shook her head, "Seriously, Windy, this building is three staircases tall. I'm pretty damn sure that ladder won't reach."

"Yes, but what if we cushioned our fall with something," Windy suggested, gently holding up an edge of the thick blanket the four sat on.

"No, Windy, absolutely not," Spere hissed, an uneasy and sickly feeling arousing in her gut. Rebel seemed fiery, and fascinated with the idea, but the moment he turned to see Cloudy's wary face, his own face changed, Spere noticed.

Rebel sighed, "That's a bad idea."

"What? C'mon, there'd be like a whole four inches of grass underneath it. We could use our bags and the pillows behind you, too," Windy said.

Spere rolled her eyes, "No, there's like four inches of straight ice down there. Did you forget the ice storm from the other night?"

Rebel groaned, "Let's just fight the dogs! Head on! What kind of weapons-"

"We don't have any weapons!" Windy snapped.

"What kind of people don't have weapons?" Rebel growled.

Spere hissed, "How come you don't have weapons, then?" Rebel's eyes lit up.

"Oh my god, I DO have a weapon! A good one, too!" He said, excitedly, and quickly pulled his bag around to his front and unzipped it and began shuffling through it. After a moment, he pulled out two pairs of black gloves. One seemed like a normal working glove, with thick rubber covering the fingers, while the other one had short one-inch silver nails attached to the ends of the fingers. They were sharp and thin, like a blade. Like claws.

Windy scoffed, "You can't fight a pack of dogs with that."

"Man, I really miss my katana right now," Spere mumbled.

"Literally nobody was even talking to you," Rebel said.

Spere narrowed her eyes, "Literally nobody even asked you to be born."

"Maybe we should just feed your stupid cat to the dogs and make a run for it!" Rebel yelled. The cat slowly crawled itself into Spere's lap, it's tail fluffed.

Spere gasped, "No! I'm not doing that!" Rebel grabbed the kitten by its scruff and yanked it from her lap, it hissing all the way. He held it up and glared at Spere, all to Cloudy's dismay. Cloudy gently pulled back on Rebel's arm, and Rebel relaxed his body ever so slightly, but kept the cat firm in his hand.

He cleared his throat, then said, steadily now, "I'm being serious. This cat would probably get away anyways and give us a chance to escape." Spere pulled the cat back from Rebel's hands, feeling a large amount of distrust for him, and respect for Cloudy. She held Soul close to her chest as an idea bloomed in her head.

"Wait a minute. Rebel, no, I'm not feeding my cat to a pack of canines. But, distracting them with something isn't a bad idea..." Spere stroked Soul's plush fur as she thought. Then, after a moment, she sighed, and said, "Rebel, let me use your gloves. I can distract them while you guys make a run for it."

Rebel's face softened. He turned his face towards Cloudy, who stared at him, almost longingly. Spere didn't know how to read them. But, after a moment of silence, Rebel sighed, and said, "No, wait. We've got another weapon. We didn't want to show you guys because it's really only for emergencies and we thought you'd try and take it from us. But you seem like good people, so we'll take that risk."

Gently, Spere heard the white cat's whispering voice, as Soul pressed his face to her stomach, "Steal it, and use it against them. You don't need these fools." Spere ignored it.

Carefully, Rebel shuffled a hand in his bag, and pulled out a small black pistol.