You find Mr. Whiskers in an abandoned house in the village, perched on a table, batting at the snow that’s sifted through the broken roof. Each time his paws touch the cold, he pauses to clean them meticulously. When he spots you, his eyes brighten, and he leaps down, trotting over with an eager purr. You scoop him up, his warm fur vibrating with contentment as you pet him.

“I’m glad you’re back, human. I missed you.” He nuzzles into your neck, even reaching up to give your nose a playful lick. “Come in and warm yourself.” You move deeper into the house and are surprised to see a small fire crackling in the hearth. You briefly wonder how a cat could manage such a feat, but this world’s peculiar magic makes anything possible.

“What brings you back to me?” His tone is curious, but before you can answer, he adds with a hint of mischief, “Oh, before we start, I need a toy. I’m tired of playing with the snow that sneaks in here. Can you find one for me?”

The urge to tell him everything wells up inside you: the questions gnawing at your mind, the cryptic warnings from Mrs. Piper. Yet, you nod, deciding to fulfill his request first. “I do have many questions to ask you, but I’ll find you a toy first,” you say, sensing that earning his favor will be worth the small delay.