Late evening.
Conan's Bungalow.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
*************
A rush of air met Helena who was turning to step back inside the house, she looked at the direction it generated from and it was Conan who had rode swiftly past her just now.
"Is that Theodore?"
He asked as he veered around to meet her.
Quickly he jumped down the steed as she answered. "Yes, that is in fact, Lord Theodore"
He paled slightly, drawing her into his arms, he held both her arms tightly. "What happened?" he questioned as he met her empty ocean-blue eyes.
But before she could answer he looked her up to down, thoroughly. "Are you okay?" he asked inspecting her for any injury.
"Helena" he called out when she remained quiet.
She gasped as his large palm held her face, keeping her gaze locked with his.
"Yes, I… am okay" she whispered, stuttering a bit.
"Why…" he trailed off.
