*Tobias: The Gift of Comfort*

Tobias sat in his room, staring out the window. His tail flicked idly against the chair as he watched the school bus roll by without him. He hadn’t gone to school in three days, and the thought of walking through those halls again sent a cold shiver down his spine. He felt small, exposed, and vulnerable in a way he never had before. 

His once-lively desk, cluttered with books and model kits, now sat untouched. Even his tablet lay dormant. Tobias told his parents he wasn’t feeling well, and while they hadn’t pushed him, he knew they didn’t believe the excuse.

---

*The Parents' Plan*

Downstairs, Mrs. Rowe paced the kitchen while Mr. Rowe leaned against the counter, nursing a cup of tea. 

“He’s retreating further every day,” Mrs. Rowe said, her voice strained with worry. “I don’t know how to get through to him.”

“He’s scared,” Mr. Rowe replied, setting his cup down. “What happened to him... it’s not something you just bounce back from.”

“I know, but he’s shutting down completely. I feel like if we don’t reach him soon, we’re going to lose him.”

Mr. Rowe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We need to remind him he’s safe, loved. Maybe something small—something that tells him we’re here for him.”

Mrs. Rowe’s ears perked up. “I think I know just the thing.”

---

*The Gift*

That evening, Tobias sat on his bed, curled up with a pillow, when there was a soft knock at his door. He didn’t answer, but the door opened gently, and Mrs. Rowe stepped inside. She held a small, gift-wrapped box in her hands.

“Tobias,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Your dad and I thought you might like this.”

Tobias hesitated, his ears twitching, before scooting closer. He accepted the box and unwrapped it slowly, lifting the lid to reveal a soft, black-and-white plushie of a cat. Around its neck was a little Penitatas collar, just like the one he wore.

His breath caught as he stared at the toy. The familiar color of its fur, the delicate stitching—it was clearly made with him in mind.

“It’s for you,” Mrs. Rowe said, her voice gentle. “We thought it might help you feel less alone.”

Tobias clutched the plushie tightly to his chest, his tail curling around his legs. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

---

*Small Steps Forward*

The next day, Tobias still didn’t go to school, but there was a noticeable shift. He spent the morning curled up on his bed with the plushie nestled under his arm. By lunchtime, he ventured downstairs for a sandwich, much to his parents’ quiet relief.

“How are you feeling?” Mrs. Rowe asked gently as he nibbled at his food.

“Better,” Tobias said, though his ears drooped slightly. “I’m not ready to go back yet... but I think I will be soon.”

“That’s okay,” Mr. Rowe said with a supportive nod. “Take your time. We’re here when you’re ready.”

Tobias gave a small nod, gripping the plushie tighter.

---

*A Glimmer of Determination*

That evening, as Tobias lay in bed, he found himself staring at the plushie’s tiny collar. What once felt like a symbol of his mistakes now felt like something else entirely: resilience and growth. 

He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the world again, but the plushie reminded him that he wasn’t alone. Maybe he could take the next step, one small piece at a time.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Tobias whispered, curling around the plushie as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

---

*Virt Watches from Afar*

Outside, perched in the shadow of a tree just beyond Tobias’s window, **Virt** observed the quiet scene with a smirk. Her red eyes glowed faintly in the darkness as she watched Tobias clutch the plushie in his sleep.

“Retreating into comfort,” she murmured, her voice low and thoughtful. “But not broken. Not yet.”

Her tail flicked behind her as she leapt silently from the branch, disappearing into the night.

“Enjoy your peace while it lasts, Tobias,” she whispered to herself. “You’ll need it for what’s coming next.”