Conan's Bungalow
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
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Long shadows were cast across the opulent foyer of the Knights cosy bungalow as the evening sun dipped below the horizon.
Helena stood poised at the threshold, her hand resting lightly on the ornate doorknob.
She is wearing a dark cloak and, she exuded an air of quiet sophistication and mysterious danger, her features softened by the warm glow of the flickering lamps that lined the walls.
She had heard a small meow that made her pause and at her feet was her sleek black cat.
Ebony sat watching her with its keen amber eyes, its tail twitching restlessly against the polished marble floor.
There was an unmistakable air of longing in its gaze as it regarded Helena, a silent plea to take him in the twilight hours.
Sensing the unspoken request, the lady crouched down beside the cat, her fingers reaching out to stroke its glossy fur with gentle affection.
