Rosemary was sitting on a flight of stairs when she saw a woman with short white hair in a long deep blue coat. She stood up and went to her.
"Are you Thyme ?
-Yes. You're Rosemary, then.
-Let's start looking."
Thyme starting walking at a brisk pace, with Rosemary following behind. She was looking around, searching for Scarlatine. "We're not here yet," cut Thyme. "We still have some distance to go on.
-Where is she anyway ?
-I believe she found shelter in a house. An abandoned house.
-Or rather, she would've entered that house and not managed to exit."
They walked a bit in silence. They were in a residential neighbourhood, similar brick houses stretching on both sides. The houses were old, their windows grimy. The road was paved with old wore down stones. A light snow was falling, barely a a flake or two. It didn't hold. It never could, and so it slipped down the pavement and flowed along the street in an invisible stream.
Rosemary tried to look ahead, but the snow was just enough to reduce visibility to a thin veil that colored the world in grey and white. "We'll be arriving soon." To be honest with herself, Thyme doubted more and more that the cat was nearby. There was no clue here. None at all. She wondered if this was due to her companion. Either way, she would quickly search the house, then, with a shard of remorse, go to the other location.
The remorse wasn't because of the cat, it was because she would bring Rosemary there.