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The scream pierces the air just as Sofia spots Dove leaning against the wrought-iron fence, one boot propped against the metal, fingers tapping impatiently on her thigh. Dove’s hair is a shock of platinum under the orange-tinted floodlights, the kind of blonde that makes Sofia’s breath hitch—unnatural, otherworldly, like she stepped out of a horror flick herself.
Sofia grins. "You look like you’re about to murder someone," she says by way of greeting.
Dove’s answering smirk is razor-sharp. "Only if they touch my cats."
And oh, the cats. Toby presses against Sofia’s calf, her tail flicking nervously as the distant sound of chainsaws revs up again. Peanut Butter, true to his name, crouches low in Dove’s shadow, ears flat, his usual aggression simmering into something wary. Cheesecake? Nowhere to be seen—until Sofia spots the puff of black fur trying to burrow inside Dove’s puffy leather jacket.
Fern, ancient and regal in her mesh backpack, blinks down at them all like she’s judging their life choices. Joey, meanwhile, wiggles in his own carrier on Sofia’s back, letting out a high-pitched "yip" that makes Toby’s fur stand on end. Dove rolls her eyes, but her fingers lace with Sofia’s before Sofia can even reach for her.
"Come on," she murmurs, tugging her forward. "Before Peanut loses his shit and tries to fight a scarecrow."
The maze stretches before them, towering stalks of corn casting jagged shadows. Somewhere behind them, a ghoul shrieks, and Cheesecake yelps, claws digging into Dove’s shoulder through the fabric. Sofia laughs, bright and startled, and Dove’s grip tightens—not from fear, no. From something warmer, sharper.
"You’re enjoying this," Dove accuses.
Sofia bumps their shoulders together. "You’re holding my hand in public," she counters.
Dove’s grin is all teeth.