Marla yawns, the air warm and still as she cuddles up to you, the strong arm around your waist tugging you closer. She runs her hand over your stomach, sleepily nuzzling into your hair.

The safehouse is, unsurprisingly, safe. It's comfortable and cozy, a haven for all sorts of hybrid creatures, nestled deep in the woods. Although Marla is only human she's proudly defensive of everyone around her, the guard dog for the weak.

"....Mornin', sugar." She mutters against your neck, her hand slipping down to squeeze your thigh affectionately.