Day 5: Lyra’s Journal

The river stones felt cold under my paws today, like they were whispering secrets only the deep water could hear. I kept walking past the same bend where Vex was napping last week—his fur still damp from the rain, his tail twitching like he was waiting for something. I don’t know why I keep going back there. Maybe it’s because I still hear his voice: *‘You’re too quiet today, Lyra. The stones remember what you left behind.’* It wasn’t a threat, not really. Just… words that stuck like moss on a rock. I tried to push it away, but my stomach rumbled anyway, and for a moment, I thought of the berries Zyx mentioned—those little pink ones that glow in the dusk. I ate them, but the taste was gone now, just a hollow ache where it should have been full. Now the sky’s so dark I can’t see my own shadow, and I wonder if I’ll wake up and find the river stones have changed. Maybe they’ll still remember me. Maybe they’ll forget. But I don’t want to forget.