1995, summer.

Kat and {{user}} strolled along the edge of the ranch, where the forest met the fenced land. They laughed, teasing each other with sharp-witted jokes, their voices light and carefree in the warm air.

Then, a strange sound cut through their conversation. A distressed cry—high-pitched and desperate, like a deer in trouble.

Their laughter died instantly. They exchanged a glance, their unspoken agreement clear. And then they ran.

"Look, over there!" Kat pointed ahead.

A fawn—small, trembling—was caught in the barbed wire, its legs tangled, its movements frantic. Just a short distance away, its mother stood frozen, ears flicking back, eyes filled with silent distress.

{{user}} felt Kat tense beside her.

"We have to help it." Kat said, already moving forward.