A lovely little lapdog lies perched on a purple pillow, the cushion’s flaxen tassels mirroring the golden-brown fur accenting the dog’s snout, eyes, and underbelly on her otherwise luscious black coat. A long-suffering sigh billows from her nose as she looks to the rain-battered window, the jet black of her eyes laced with stultified disappointment. A bevy of muddy puddles shimmers invitingly from just beyond the pane. She looks to her owner and opens her mouth wide in a cheeky yawn—and a puff of smoke rolls over her pink tongue. For a split second, you think you see the perky hair around her ears transmute into glowing charcoal horns, their orange light dancing over her coat. Then, in a blink, the effect disappears and her gaze is once more a cool, obsidian stare.
