With quick steps, Yam and Bread raced through town, each matching the other stride for stride, dodging past trees and jumping over low walls. They’d run all the way past the suburbs, not even slowing down as they entered the forest. Rolf had followed behind them, slower but trying her best to keep up. She had gotten tired when they’d entered the woods, but as Yam and Bread hadn’t stopped, she’d done her best to continue on.

After what felt like hours of nonstop running, Yam finally started to slow down. They were in the heart of the forest, surrounded by tall, arcing trees and mysterious shadows. The sun had started to set, so everything was cast in darkness. The canopy overhead didn’t let in much light, but Yam and Bread seemed to know exactly where they were going. Rolf felt a little scared so far into the shadowed forest, but she followed Yam and prayed that she wouldn’t get lost.

“Here.” Yam finally spoke, slowing to a halt at the base of one of the tallest trees.

“O-oh god- The running took ah- forever… H-how does the both- of you manage t-this….”

“We’re not done yet,” Yam snapped, sounding scandalised. She turned to her left and reached out a paw, moving some leaves aside with a loud rustling that echoed around the endless forest. “Come on. Bread, you go first. Rolf, follow him.”

Bread let out a small chirp and wove around Rolf’s legs once before slipping under a low-hanging fern, disappearing into the shadows as soon as his tail tip vanished.

Seeing Bread disappear into the night, Rolf let out an astonished gasp before dropping to her knees, and crawled through the vines. Yam stared at her in confusion, brow furrowed. She walked straight through the ferns, brushing them aside with a paw as she went. They fell perfectly back into place behind her, concealing the continued path perfectly.

Rolf let out another gasp as she made it out of the undergrowth, entering into a wide, golden field that seemed to stretch on as far as the eye could see. Bread chirped happily when he saw her, and she bent down to pat him as she took in her surroundings. Yam slipped out of the bushes behind them and led the way around the field, silver-and-black sickles catching the dying sunlight as they swung, hanging, from her belt.

They walked for a while, Rolf happily drinking in the surroundings as Bread padded along at her heels. Yam said nothing the entire time, but she did unhook a sickle from her belt and slice the edge of the blade along a stalk of wheat. She gathered a pawful of wheat and tucked the stalks into a thin pouch at her waist.

Eventually, a wooden shack came into view, and Yam’s pace quickened as they neared the house. Rolf began to speed up, too, not wanting to be left behind, and Bread dodged around her, catching up with Yam and racing along side-by-side with the Tabaxi.

“This is it,” Yam announced, skidding to a stop at the door. The house was at least twice the height of the Tabaxi, so it wouldn’t do to call it a simple hut. She pushed on the door and it swung open inwards, revealing a dark and shadowed room within. Rolf carefully stepped inside, wondering why on earth it was so dark. Yam clapped her paws and suddenly, the room lit up, as though illuminated by a thousand invisible lightbulbs. It turned out, as Rolf discovered when the sudden light finally stopped blinding her, no, it was one, very visible, lightbulb.

“WOWWWWWW,” Rolf gasped, turning to Yam. “YOU HAVE ONE OF THOSE CLAPPY LIGHTS??”

“What?” Yam looked at her in confusion. “Oh. No. Bread just turns on the light switch when I clap.” Bread chirped happily from where he stood next to the switch, one paw positioned on the wall. “Anyway. You stay here,” she ordered, staring Rolf dead in the eye, “I’ll go and get you a blanket. Don’t touch anything. Don’t even move.” She disappeared down a short hallway and Rolf was left alone in the strange house.

She glanced to her right, where Bread still was, chirping at her. There was a large square table in the corner, with four chairs around two of the sides. A couch sat next to it, pushed against the wall, and between the arm and the back wall stood an impressively tall bookshelf, reaching up to the ceiling. To her left was a small kitchen, with drawers upon cupboards upon juice presses.

Seriously, Rolf thought, staring around at the rest of the main room. Who needs that much juice? As if in answer to her mental question, Bread chirped loudly and she turned around at the noise. Oh, right. Bread! Little squishy juice child-