An old tom grunts in his sleep, deep inside his dream.

The tom is a kit again, watching his parents abandon him as a kit. He calls out in fear, but they don't respond. He is paralyzed with fear as they walk away. The blizzard around him intensifies and his parents are swallowed up by the snow. He, in turn, begins to feel himself being encased in the cold snow.

His eyes snap open to the stone wall of the cave. Heavily breathing, he forces himself to calm down.

The tom slowly stands up, his bones aching from the cold rock. He stretches his limbs and yawns.

He squeezes out of the snow-covered cave through the small gap in the wall of ice that hid the cave from view.

Once the tom is outside in the cold landscape, he tastes the air for scents. Finding nothing, he begins to walk to a small spring that may hold a few mice.

Before he could get too far, the tom notices the sound of snow crunching beneath a set of paws separate from his own. He stops and stands completely still.

The white and grey tom whirls around, nose to nose with a grey spotted tom. He jumps in surprise and the spotted tom lets out a mrrow of laughter.

"Great Peaks, Dapple! You shouldn't sneak around like that! I'm not young enough to take those types of scares anymore!"

"Aw, come on, old timer! You gotta live a little!" The younger tom continues,"Anyways, Stone, it's not like you're half dead or anything!"

Stone shakes his head,"Since you're so determined to be bothering me, make yourself useful. Help me hunt. I need to start building up a storage of freshkill." He turns and starts walking, Dapple next to him.

"How are you holding up?" Dapple asks.

Stone grunts something about his bones. Suddenly, the odor of multiple cats strikes his nose. He stiffens,"Dapple."

"Yes?"

Before Stone can continue, a snowy white cat bursts from the snow pile that was in front of the two cats.

Two more cats emerge behind the tom.