As soon as he arrived in his cave, Salim laid the third kitten down with his two siblings, who were still making soft noises. The lynx lay down with the three of them and tried to warm them as best he could with his not particularly dry fur. He licked the blood and water from their fur and tried to keep their breathing steady with his regular movements. He still prayed that they would not die of hunger or cold. He would take care of them if their souls remained in their bodies, he swore to himself.

But a problem arose that he had not yet considered. He was a lynx, not a lynxess that could nurse these kittens. He gave no milk, could not feed the little ones. And yet somehow, he had to keep them alive. A lynxess that was completely on its own after giving birth would eventually manage to release its kittens into the wild. And he would probably be able to do the same.

Salim's gaze rested on the kittens, whose chests rose and fell quickly but regularly. They were so fragile, so unprotected in their situation, that it instantly warmed Salim's heart and he began to smile. They would never know their mother, but now they had gained a father. Perhaps the lynxess had actually realized in her dying moments that her kittens were safe with him. The way they lay here with him, pressed close to his belly, where they would find no milk, was beautiful. And suddenly he knew that he would do everything he could to ensure that these three would live a long life. He would protect them, especially in the first few moons, until they opened their eyes and snatched their first prey. Salim didn't know how he would nurse them, but he was sure he wouldn't let them die. Not by the fact that he wasn't a lynxess.

Snuggling close to his three newfound kittens, he closed his eyes. He could feel their mouths pulling at his fur, which reassured him. They were alive, that was all he could tell.

Salim heard the rain drumming on the already wet branches and twigs and falling to the ground in gentle drops. He heard the sound of the wind mixing with the melancholy and singing a song. Every now and then he heard the chirping of a bird or the call of a deer before only the sound of the water could be heard. Salim thought of his mother, who now lay dead in his forest and whom he would only be able to bury in the days to come. He imagined how she was now covered by water instead of earth and this thought brought him the peace he needed to fall into a light sleep.

In his mind's eye, another lynx kitten appeared that he had long wanted to bury in the past.

~

It was dark around Salim. It was pitch black, almost like the dead of night, but he knew the sun was still shining outside. His memory, which he desperately wished for at that moment, failed to materialize. He couldn't remember how he had got to this place, which was only sparsely lit by the cracks in the cave walls. Just bright enough for the lynx to see.

He got up with a groan. His limbs felt stiff and heavy, as if he had been lying in the same position for days without moving in the slightest. But that was impossible, Salim knew immediately.

He vaguely remembered the scent of fear from the hare, which had unfortunately revealed his method of sneaking up on him too quickly. He could still feel the grass under his paws as he sprinted and tried to chase the hare to death. And then, there was nothing more. A brief pain, like the sting of a wasp, had been felt on his shoulder before his eyesight had suddenly faded and he had fallen to the ground.

That was all he knew, and he seriously wondered what kind of wasp sting could cause such symptoms. And how did he get here?

Salim turned his head from side to side, trying to see which cave he had been taken to. He had never seen such a strange structure before.

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He himself was lying on a hard floor that bore a strong resemblance to the steam path, but was freezing cold. He scratched a few lines into the strange material with one of his claws. It couldn't be stone, because it didn't look particularly stable, its sharp claws leaving deep furrows. He sniffed at it, a little confused, but the only thing he could clearly recognize was the numbing smell of the Baldskins.

The low walls around him seemed to be made of the same material, the only difference being that they had not been built for a lynx at all. He could barely stand upright in it and if he stretched, he would be stuck between the floor and the ceiling.

Even the exit of the tiny cave had a net, which was now clearly stone. Smoothly polished and extremely stable, but just as gray. Salim struggled against it, working it with his claws to break out of the cave, but to no avail. The grid held firm. He wouldn't be getting out of here any time soon. He let out an angry growl and bit into the stone with all his might, but apart from a sharp toothache, he achieved nothing.

"You're not getting out of here." Suddenly a voice rang out, making him flinch. He was not alone here.

Salim pressed his snout against the bars so he could see out. Another cave, but much larger, was opening up there, but it was too dark to see anything more clearly. He could just make out some rectangular objects opposite him.

"Hello?" the lynx whispered timidly into the silence that had returned, listening tensely to his breathing. He winced as voices greeted him from all corners of the strange cave or simply murmured "Quiet". Salim's eyes grew wide.

"I'm locked in here. Could someone be so kind as to free me?" Laughter rang out from all around, lynxes must have been crouching behind all sides of his dark prison. Even below and above him, he heard sounds that suggested life.

"You can save your kindness”, a soft voice came to him from a distance.

"Is he just pretending or is he that stupid?", someone asked. And Salim cowered in the far corner of his cave.

"He's new here!", a bright voice called into the confusion. The same voice that had alerted him to his futile attempts to escape. "Don't be too hard on him."

Another murmur filled the air before silence returned, which was almost more unsettling than the babble of voices.

"Don't hold it against them”, the voice rang out again and Salim nodded slightly until he realized that the lynx who had just spoken most likely couldn't see it.

"Who are you? And what is this?"

"My name is Alicia," the light voice explained, while his roof suddenly began to shake. Salim curled up even further, hoping this Baldskin material would hold up. "Do you see? That's me! You were delivered and put under me." The little voice sounded cheerful, hardly frightened like the other lynxes who had spoken.

"What is this?" Salim asked again when Alicia wouldn't give him any more answers.

"I don't know what this is, but I've been here a long time. Bare skins come and go and bring us daylight. But unfortunately, they always take it again with them."

Salim frowned and tried to regain his composure. "What do you mean?"

He would have liked to run back outside immediately, just keep moving and no one would have been able to stop him. He cursed himself for not having paid attention to scents other than that of the hare. Baldskins carried such a disgusting stench that you could usually smell them from a good distance.

"They bring sleeping lynxes here and then disappear again. In these boxes from which there is no escape. It's been going on for moons."

Salim felt even more queasy. "For moons? And no lynx has ever escaped from here?"

Alicia hesitated briefly before answering in the same optimistic voice: "I can't say that. Sometimes lynxes are picked up again. I don't know where they're taken, but they don't come back after that." Then her voice took on a sad tone. "But they never want to take me."