Night fell over the city like a torn silk veil, dragging behind it tatters of trembling light. Two furtive silhouettes slipped between the shadows of the alleys, two pairs of golden eyes reflecting the neon of flickering signs. They were two cats, two lost souls in the maze of stone and noise.
 
One, a tabby with reddish-black fur, was named Orion. His demeanor was that of an adventurer, always the first to explore dark corners, to leap onto the leprous walls where moss drew ancient maps. The other, a white cat with eyes green as emeralds polished by time, answered to the name Luna. She moved with the grace of a dancer, each step measured, each movement a silent poetry.
 
They were lost. Not one without the other, no. Together. Their territory, that little garden behind the old house with blue shutters, had vanished under the shovels of men. The walls of their kingdom had crumbled, and now, the city seemed to them a hostile ocean, a labyrinth of screams and blinding headlights.
 
Orion stopped abruptly in front of an overturned trash can, his muzzle quivering. « Do you smell that, Luna? » he seemed to say, though cats don’t really speak. But in the language of glances and tail flicks, she understood. The scent of fried fish hung in the air, mixed with the acrid smell of metal and gasoline. Luna shivered. « This isn’t home, » she seemed to reply.
 
They moved forward, side by side, crossing deserted squares where the echoes of their steps were lost in the wind. Sometimes, a human laugh resonated in the distance, or the deep rumble of an engine made them jump. Orion, always bold, climbed onto the hoods of sleeping cars, scanning the horizon as if he could read their fate there. Luna preferred to huddle against the walls, where the darkness was thickest, where they could become invisible.
 
Midnight struck on the old station clock. The streets emptied a little more, leaving only the streetlights as witnesses to their quest. That’s when they saw it: a slightly ajar door, a golden glow filtering through the drawn curtains. The scent of warm milk escaped from the house, a sweet and familiar melody. Without hesitation, they slipped inside.
 
The room was warm, bathed in amber light. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and on the couch, an old book lay as if abandoned. In the middle of the living room, a gray-haired woman in a wool dress watched them with eyes full of surprise and tenderness. « Well, here you are, my little wanderers, » she said, smiling. She held out a hand, and in her palm, two steaming bowls awaited.
 
Orion and Luna exchanged a glance. The city was vast, sometimes cruel, but tonight, it offered them refuge. Perhaps getting lost wasn’t an end, but the beginning of a new story.