Skies of doom

The hum of the airport was louder than usual in Dogday’s ears. Travelers rushed past, rolling luggage, voices blending into a constant buzz. CatNap sat beside him, unusually still, eyes fixed on the digital departure board flashing Flight 729 – On Time. Dogday stretched and yawned. “Can’t believe we’re finally going on this trip,” he said, trying to shake off a nagging unease. CatNap didn’t answer. His fingers tapped nervously against the armrest. “Something’s wrong,” he muttered under his breath. Dogday laughed it off. “It’s just nerves. Come on, relax.” But deep down, he felt it too—