Silk’s soft claws sliced into the wood, leaving a mark that shimmered briefly before vanishing—as if the tree had swallowed the scratch whole.

He stilled, claws relaxing, muscles tensing. Then, with a fluid grace, he leapt—tree to tree, a shadow in motion.

Above, the sun wept golden tears as it watched him soar.

Silk’s eyes fluttered closed mid-leap. A strange fear stirred in his chest—an unfamiliar tremor.

Had he made the jump?

When he opened his eyes, the world had changed.

Clouds drifted just centimeters from his whiskers, soft and glowing. Beneath his paws, a massive bird glided through the air, its white wings rising and falling like ocean waves. The wind howled, not with fury, but with welcome.

Below them, the clouds thinned to reveal a vast floating landscape—rivers that poured off the edges of islands suspended in the sky, forests with trees that shimmered silver, and mountains that moved slowly, like great beasts slumbering in the distance.

Silk’s ears twitched. The air here sounded different—lighter, full of whispers. He tilted his head. The wind was speaking.