Since childhood, I was taught that for an animal there is nothing higher than life. That the key to the well-being of my pack is a strict hierarchy and subordination to its leader. That my word is law for them. And so it was until one single incident changed everything. They say that being Patra, being a leader among us is not just a status. Patra is the strength and support of the pack, its soul and life. A warming fire, without which the flock will die. But what to do if this very flock betrayed everything you believed in? And how can a lonely cat and a blind kitten survive in our cruel world of strength, claws and fangs?