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Cold. Numb. Barren. That's how the entire world was at this point, or, well, the world as far as Saint could see. The wind bit at their fur and threatened to chew their paws off as they climbed the remains of Pebbles' leg. It stung, but they continued, for if they didn't then they'd face a fate much worse than simple soreness. They clamped their eyes shut further, finally making it to the top and slipping down a hole, into one of the decrepit rooms of the silent construct. Light trickled through cracks in the ceiling despite the raging snowstorm, and stems formerly bearing blue fruit hung from the ceiling. A familiar white mark, engraved into the ground, shone brightly. Shelter. They slipped down through the entrance and paused.
A pale blue shape was huddled over in the corner of the room. Saint approached further, causing it to squeak and turn its head. Two black eyes, small curled ears and pudgy cheeks were revealed. A juvenile slugcat had been resting here. The shock had caused them to drop a piece of sharp rubble, which they were using to carve silly drawings into the walls of the shelter.
"Oh." Saint's ear flicked, and they nodded their head as a gesture of apology. "I won't hurt you, young one. I don't mind sharing this shelter for the cycle either." With that, they curled up tightly in the opposite corner. They could sense the confusion in the slugpup's face, but they didn't have time to sit and talk to a pup about things Saint already knew, and all that mattered anyway was that both of them are sheltered. With that final thought, the world dimmed, and Saint fell asleep.
Something poked at Saint's side. Their ears perked. It was the pup, incessantly poking them and then gesturing towards the entrance of the shelter. Oh, of course, it was open now. Saint got up and walked past the pup without so much as a glance, making their way out of the shelter. The pup skipped after them, waving their hand all about almost as if to say 'wait up!'. The other held that sharp stone still. Saint stopped and turned, waiting for the slugpup to make their purpose clear. They stopped in turn and stared up at Saint. Not a single thing in those small black eyes said a word beyond surface level.
"You shouldn't follow me." Saint shook their head. Their next words caught in their throat. It would've been something like 'our purposes do not align', or 'you should go find food for yourself', but they couldn't in good consciousness say that. The iterator's corpse was damp, still crumbling and crawling with spiders eager to feed on something. The pup was, for the most part, furless in such an environment as well. "...But you may. I will take you to the neighboring iterator. She seems to appreciate companionship." They tugged at the slugpup's paw, and something in the pup's expression shifted at the gesture. It seemed to be joy.
Upon exiting the room into the main pathway of the collapsed leg, it became clear that such a young slugcat couldn't brave the geometry of the area themselves. They turned and picked the pup up in two arms, placing it on their back the best they could and waiting until they got a proper grip on them to let go. That moment didn't come, because the pup still firmly held their rubble in hand.
"You're going to have to let go of that. You'll fall off otherwise." They didn't budge. In fact, they tried to shake Saint about, perhaps annoyed about the rock, or perhaps annoyed about the two of them not moving. "...Here." Saint felt around their back until they grabbed the rubble and yanked it out of the slugpup's grasp. "I'll hold onto it, and I promise I will give it back when we're on level ground."
The rest of the journey proceeded relatively smoothly. They did have to hide from spiders in pipes, and took a close call falling from a high height. The large straightaway outside was the most perilous. Miros birds periodically ran throughout the area, snapping at each other while their modified legs screeched and scraped against the ground. They had stood on a pole just barely too high for the miros birds to reach. Many of them had also already sunk their beaks into a pack of scavengers. Saint could feel the pup shiver and grab their fur tighter then. Saint knew that they'd be safe, but they understood the fear. It was natural, it was an extension of the fifth urge. Well, though they understood why, they found it difficult to conjure up that same feeling in themselves. Perhaps it was the solace of knowing they'd wake right back up again. Perhaps it was that they knew when they could escape a dangerous situation. Or maybe it simply was just that stone-faced, serene demeanor that they had mastered over time.
--
"There's slime mold here."
They dropped down from a ledge and let the pup climb off of their back. Saint practically fell against the decayed walls as they sat. They then picked up a piece of slime mold and took a bite. It was gooey, and put up some resistance as it stretched when they pulled it away. They observed as the blue, juvenile slugcat stared at their piece and poked it with a single digit. Saint dimly wondered if this had been the pup's first time eating slime mold.
"You need to eat, young one. There's not more food for a while down this path." Saint leaned forwards and nudged the slime towards their- the pup.
Their ears pinned, and they scrunched their face up at Saint. Still, moments later, they took a slow bite. Then another, then another, then another. After the initial hesitance they quickly devoured the entire thing. They scraped another piece off of the floor ate that one up just as eagerly.
Saint raised a paw, and the pup stared at him with a confused look in their eyes. "It's unwise to overindulge. ...You haven't yet, no need to feel guilty. It's just something to keep in mind." Saint lowered their paw and stood up. The slugpup got up to match them, but their expression and blank stare remained unchanged. "Right. I suppose I'm just talking to myself at this point." Saint tossed the rock back to the pup, and the two of them continued on their journey.
The duo carefully climbed down through the cavernous remains, through tight tunnels and past long-defunct machinery. There was a barely audible, strained hum of a light in the background, screaming to be heard in its last few cycles yet unfortunately still quiet. Saint looked down at their fragile, young companion. They wondered if they understood the nature of where they were. Did they understand why the snow falls? ...Probably not. But the pup was still afraid and lonely, Saint concluded, the conditions would make any living being, regardless of cognition, feel that way. ...Well, except for some, of course. Saint let out a thoughtful hum, though their musing was soon interrupted by a familiar sight.
A rusty metal bridge, three sliding gates and a grate sealing off a heater below. Saint nudged the pup forwards onto the bridge and observed as they glanced around. Water spilled out from the ceiling on either side of them, seeping down onto the heater and consequently rising back up as steam. The slugpup waved it away from their face and squinted, and Saint, by contrast, was perfectly still. The middle gate opened up, allowing them passage. Immediately as they stepped over the threshold into Frigid Coast, brutal wind hit them. The blizzard must be kicking up now, Saint noted. They placed the pup upon their back and made haste towards shelter. It had been a while since Saint had been here. Perhaps it was the urgency of imminent death by hypothermia, but the routes all blurred together in their mind. Saint shook their head.
They kept running and running, swimming and swimming. The water was even colder than the bitter air, requiring Saint to take a deep breath and brace themselves every time they hopped in. Their breathing grew heavy. Their fur stood on end. They could feel the slugpup's initially firm grip on their fur waver. "We're almost there, little one," Saint assured the pup through exasperated breaths as they slid down through the entrance into the conduits below the ocean's surface.
"Almost-" The wind was knocked out of them, and they flopped down under the water. Saint hissed and it rushed into their lungs. It burned. Their whole body burned. Their energy was spent from involuntarily shivering - from trying to stave off the cold. Still, they used the last of their energy to push through the water, back up to the surface. Saint coughed and sputtered. The next thing they noticed was that the slugpup was gone. They whipped around, spotting them kicking and batting against the water's surface, desperately trying to keep themselves afloat. Saint grabbed the pup in one hand and pulled forwards with all of their dwindling strength. They used the other to grab onto a broken, rusted ladder. Their vision blurred, not literally but in a metaphorical sense where all their thoughts blurred and the buzzing and the confusion made it hard to focus and see. They knew just up there was shelter. All they had to do was climb the ladder. It was just up there.
Their hold slipped.
--
Saint woke up again. They were back in the shelter within the leg of the Silent Construct. The pup was gone. Saint sighed. A sort of... emptiness washed over them. It wasn't from their failure to find out what they were looking for. No. That emptiness was the answer they were looking for, in a way. What they had done was irresponsible anyway, how they robbed the souls of others of eternal tranquility even if it was just for a brief moment. They ought to be ashamed. They were. Perhaps it was for the best that the pup had... a reflexive jolt - guilt - could be felt in their spine, and they didn't attempt to finish that thought. They shook themselves off, shaking their thoughts away like dust in their fur. There was still more to be understood.
Saint raised their forepaws, spreading them wide as they began to weave together long lost lives again.