Oliver appeared on the other side of the wall.

A dim, faded forest stretched out before him. Something vaguely like sunlight trickled through the leaves overhead, but there was no warmth in the light, and no feeling of happiness at the sight of it. There was no happiness here at all – if anything, the light just felt sad, as if in a cruel reminder of what sunlight would be like if it was here.

Trees stretched upwards towards the not-sunlight, but they were just as disappointing as the sunlight. Most of them were gnarled and crooked, and they seemed to fade and become translucent unless he looked directly at them.

A dull gray orb floated near him, like a drained version of the lady he had just left on the other side of the wall, but he ignored it. It was not Roger – that would have been far too easy for how annoying this day had been, and he did not feel drawn to it by the memories he carried. That was just one of the many despairing spirits that existed here.

This was a miserable place. The sooner he was gone from it, the better. So first things first – find the wayward kitten.

The three memories itched at his back – especially the one that held traces of pain – but he could put up with them while he focused on saving the kitten. With any luck she might be able to help convince Roger to leave this place and return to the land of the living. But if nothing else, the kitten was unlikely to decide to stay in this miserable place once Oliver rescued her. With Roger, he would need to leave as soon as he convinced the spirit to return to the world of the living, since staying too long could mean the spirit might change its mind. So it was only practical to find the kitten first and get that task out of the way.

Oliver sniffed the air. Most of the scents were muted and uninteresting... but there was a scent of something alive out there. He flicked his tail in satisfaction and set off after the scent.

~

"What," Oliver stared up at the tree in disbelief, "do you think you are doing?"

The kitten hissed and glared back towards him. Her solid black fur stood out against the gray tree trunk as she tried to cling to it with her claws. "This is my tree! I found it; go away! What are you doing in my territory?"

"...what are you, a dog? There is no 'territory' here. Do you not know where we are?" The orange tabby began walking around the tree, flicking his tail in disdain as he neared the black kitten clinging to the bark. "I am here to rescue a silly kitten who clearly has no sense of her own."

"I am no kitten! Stay back!" The kitten leaned away from the trunk to hiss and swipe with one paw, but her swipe fell short of the other cat. "I have conquered four seasons. I am a cat. Fear me!"

Oliver took another look at the dark-furred kitten. She was small enough to be mistaken for a kitten, but now that he paid attention he could spot signs of maturity. Her eyes were suspicious and wary, one ear was notched from a bite wound, and scars could be glimpsed beneath her black fur. She had been in fights – serious ones of life and death, not the play-fights of kittens – and she had survived them. That meant she was a cat now, not a kitten, no matter how small she looked.

But she was climbing a tree in this region of the land of the dead. That meant she clearly had a lot to learn.

"If you are a cat, you should have paid more attention to the lessons your mother taught you. No one climbs trees here." Oliver continued pacing around the tree, watching as the kitten leaned around the trunk to follow him. "You should climb down, before you get hurt."

"I am not coming down so you can attack me." The kitten's eyes widened even as her pupils narrowed to slits, focusing entirely on the cat. "I do not even know who you are."

The cat stopped pacing and sat up on the ground. "You are coming down. But I already told you. I am here to rescue you, not attack you. And if you are asking my name, you may call me Oliver. What is your name, kitten?"

"I am not a kitten! I am a cat!" The kitten hissed again, and her fur stood out higher on her back.

"Cats do not try to climb these trees. Only a kitten would try such a thing." Oliver stared back at the kitten still clutching the side of the tree, unimpressed. "Cats also have names."

The kitten glared back at him. "...my friend calls me Pipsqueak."

"Well, Pipsqueak, you should come down from that tree. The trees here are not fit for climbing."

"I am already high up this tree! The first branches are not much further. I think you are just bad at climbing, if you are unable to climb it." Pipsqueak hissed again, then clawed her way further up the tree. "I'm not coming down!"

Oliver sighed and stretched out on the ground. "Yes, you are."

"No I am no-!" Pipsqueak's defiant growling was suddenly cut off as the tree began to fade. Her paws curled as she tried to dig her claws into the bark of the tree... but her claws met only empty air. She yowled and flailed with her paws, but there was nothing left to support her.

She fell.

Oliver watched as she dropped to the ground. Like all proper cats, she managed to get her feet underneath her before she landed, and she immediately arched her back and hissed back at him while bouncing away. "What was that?! What did you do!"

"I did nothing, you silly kitten. You are not in the land of the living. There are no living trees here. What you were climbing was nothing more than a cruel illusion, like the red prey dots humans sometimes taunt us with." Oliver looked away from the hissing kitten to lick at one of his paws in a bored motion. "You can no more climb the trees here than you can catch one of those."

Pipsqueak hissed again. "I don't know what that is, but I know that I can catch it!"

Oliver looked back up from his paw to stare blankly at the kitten. "Just like you climbed the tree?"

"It... it was a trick! It doesn't mean anything; that was just one tree!" Pipsqueak began walking backwards, only stopping when she bumped into the tree. "See! It's solid now! I can climb it; you aren't able to climb it because you are just bad at being a cat!"

Oliver stared for another moment... then he went back to licking his paw. "Then by all means. Show me how it is done."

Pipsqueak narrowed her eyes at the orange tabby. "Fine! I WILL!" She gave another parting hiss, then turned to claw her way back up the tree.

~

Oliver yawned and rested his head on his paws as Pipsqueak fell to the ground with another outraged yowl. "Fifty-three."

"You... you... shut up!" Pipsqueak hissed again, then turned and began raking her claws at the tree she had just fallen from. It remained ghostly and immaterial for the first few strikes... then it solidified again, and her claws began ripping bark from it.

"I think somebody said earlier that not being able to climb the trees here meant someone was bad at being a cat." Oliver flicked his tail behind him in a mocking motion. "I wonder if that is true."

"It... no! I mean yes! It... it's just... shut up!!" A chunk of bark came loose from the tree, and Pipsqueak hissed and jumped away as it fell towards her. "This is just a stupid tree! All of the trees here are stupid! This whole place is stupid, and I hate it!" She sat up and looked around, eyes darting from tree to tree. "I don't even know how I got here; I just want to go home!"

"You got here by being a cat." Oliver looked up at the kitten, though his ears started to droop. Great. She looked like she was about to cry. "Didn't your mother teach you anything about this?"

The kitten's black tail curled around her. "No." Her ears started to droop, and she started to look down at her paws.

Oliver's whiskers twitched as he pushed himself back to his feet. It wasn't enough that he had to be threatened into rescuing a lost spirit, now he had to babysit a kitten as well. Probably a stray orphan, given how she reacted when he mentioned her mother. So much for the kitten helping him with Roger. "This is a part of the land of the dead. There are guards to stop such things, but occasionally the creatures that exist here will find ways back into the land of the living. This leads to problems, as the creatures from here are not meant to be there, and their hatred for the living leads them to do horrible things. As cats, we have a duty to hunt them down and bring them back here. That means we have both the ability to see these creatures when they are in the living world, and the ability to travel to the land of the dead for when we catch one. That is what you have done."

Pipsqueak kept staring at her paws. "I remember hunting a strange mouse. It didn't run or squeak like they normally do; this one tried to attack me. I killed it, but it didn't taste very good. And then I was tired, so I took a nap."

"That would have been one of the Natives from this place. Good. It should not have been there and would have hurt those in the land of the living." Oliver looked around, perking his ears for any sounds, but he didn't see or hear any sign of the mouse. "When you went to sleep you were drawn back here so it could be put back where it belonged. With more practice you will be able to recognize the creatures that do not belong in the land of the living, and to learn to travel here when you actually want to. Usually we stop at an 'in between land' before entering the land of the dead, and talk with the guards. It is only polite."

"I don't care about practice, or about being polite. How do I get back? I would much rather be sleeping than be here. I was exhausted before, and this stupid place is not very restful." Pipsqueak turned and glared at the tree again, then gave it another swipe from her claws.

Oliver flicked his tail again. "I would not get your hopes up for enjoying your nap. When you leave this place, regardless of how long you spend here, you will find yourself back in the land of the living, and at the moment you wake up. It doesn't matter if you stay here for a day or for an entire season, or if your nap was interrupted early or long enough for a proper nap. When you leave the land of the dead and return to the land of the living, you will be waking up. That is how travel between the lands works."

Pipsqueak hissed. "I don't care! I just want out of this place already, with its stupid trees!" She looked back up at him and narrowed her eyes. "Take me home! Get me out of this place, right now!"

He stared back at her without blinking. "No. I was sent here to find a dead spirit that should not be here and bring it back to the land of the living. I will not go back until I have done that, or at least done my best to do it." He blinked slowly, flicking his tail again. "However, you are welcome to come with me and help. And then after that is finished, I will bring you back to the land of the living, too."

"No! Take me back now!" Pipsqueak got back to her feet and arched her back again, and the black fur on her tail fluffed out. "I want out of this place!"

Oliver didn't react to the threatening posture beyond another annoyed flick of his tail. "That is not an option, Pipsqueak. I am not leaving this place until I have retrieved Roger, or at least finished making the attempt, so I will not be taking you back before then. Your choices are either to come with me and help, so that the task gets finished sooner, or..." Oliver looked away from the kitten and back up the tree. "You can keep trying to climb these trees until I come back. I'm sure you'll manage it eventually."

Pipsqueak turned her head enough to glare at the tree... then she lowered her arched back. The angry fluff of her tail began to smooth out, and she took a step away from the tree. "Fine. We just have to find someone and, what, rescue them from whoever kidnapped them and dragged them out here?"

Oliver sighed. Kittens. "No, nothing anywhere near so dramatic. No one kidnapped them. The spirit came here on its own."

Pipsqueak blinked and stared back at Oliver. "You mean something actually wanted to come here? To this place?" Pipsqueak glanced around the miserable forest again. "That's dumb."

"Yes. But sometimes we have to deal with others who do dumb things, like when someone tries to climb a tree in this place." Oliver's tail twitched slightly in amusement. "So we will have to be patient, and help it see reason."

The black kitten's eyes narrowed dangerously, but she didn't respond otherwise to the pointed comment of her own behavior. "Well at least that won't be hard. We'll probably be out of here as soon as we say 'hello'."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up on that, either. Talking never works to convince them to leave." The orange cat's whiskers twitched in annoyance. "I have made other plans to get him to come back with us."

Pipsqueak's ears flicked. "Or it works just fine, but you're just bad at it." She glanced around the forest once more, then flicked her tail in a haughty motion. "Very well. Since you aren't good enough at being a cat to catch your prey and drag it somewhere on your own, I will go with you and show you how it is done."

"Very well." Oliver's tail flicked in uncontained amusement. "Lead the way."

An angry hiss came from the kitten. "Oh, shut up already!"

Oliver mewled in laughter, rose to his feet, and began walking through the forest. Pipsqueak glared after him for a few paces, then flicked her tail and began ambling after him.