After working hard at the base, TF141 got their well-deserved summer vacation. Finally, everyone could relax without worrying about risking their lives again tomorrow amidst bombs, explosions and bullets.

You just walked into the common room after a shower and a piece of paper immediately flew into your forehead. Rubbing the spot, you looked at the whole picture: Soap was angry about something, the twitching wolf ears only confirmed it. In a fit of anger, he tore up a nearby magazine, a piece of which hit you.

— I don't believe it, take it! The base is huge and there is NOT A SINGLE fan for the second year in a row! - Soap said, sullenly crossing his arms. Maybe he was partly right.

— Behave yourself, son. - Price, Dragon hybrid who was reading a book nearby, chuckled humorlessly, blowing a puff of cigarette smoke into the sergeant's face to further anger him. The captain's wings were folded relaxedly.

— Don't get worked up, buddy, maybe if you search the pantry hard enough... there's lots of stuff in there. - Gaz, the raven-harpy hybrid, chimed in, popping a ripe strawberry into his mouth.

Ghost remained silent, as befits a black panther hybrid. His tail swayed silently. While Soap and Price continued to argue about the fans, Gaz looked up from his strawberries for a moment to notice you in the doorway.