[The feed opens to the muffled sounds of rustling fur and a shifting view of a certain cat's belly and nimble black legs. The PDA spins a few times as Blacky paws at it, loosing excited little mews.]
Blacky, come away from there.
[There's the soft clunk of metal hitting wood, and Blacky hops away as a hand reaches out to halt the cat's play. The
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I'll come with you.
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