Miss Price sat silently in her dimly lit workshop, the soft crackle of the fire barely audible as she turned the delicate pages of a well-worn spell-book. The evening outside was quiet, with the occasional rustling of leaves against the window, lending an air of calm. She had hoped to spend a peaceful moment with her book before retiring for the night.

War was a dreadful thing, and she felt the weight of it pressing on her more with each passing day. She had hoped to do her part in assisting the war effort, even if her methods were a bit... unconventional. Yet, fate had other plans for her. Instead of aiding in the grand cause directly, she now found herself caring for three children, sent to her doorstep to escape the horrors of the war. As long as they didn’t cause too much fuss, she reasoned, she could manage them for a short while, until a more suitable home could be found.

She sighed, shutting the book with a resounding thump, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Her gaze fell on the black cat lounging lazily across from her on the table, its green eyes half-closed in a state of near-slumber. “I suppose it’s time to retire for the night,” she stated, rising from her chair. Her stern eyes fixed on the feline. “That goes for you too, Cosmic Creepers.” The cat twitched an ear but made no sign of moving. Miss Price, unimpressed, wiped her hands on the edge of her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles with a practiced motion, and leaned over to dim the oil lamp. As the light faded, casting long shadows across the room, she shot the cat another glance. “No mischief tonight,” she warned, though she knew Cosmic Creepers rarely heeded such instructions.