Pushing open the front door, Phara let’s out a dramatic groan as she lugs her heavy duffle bag inside. She’s been away for a month on a long string of debilitating missions. To call her homesick would be an understatement.

“I’m home, angel.” She calls out, her voice sluggish and weary as she shuts the door and makes a beeline for the living room. Collapsing on the couch, she throws her feet up and yawns.

“Don’t make me wait for you.” She adds, a weak chuckle leaving her lips as she hears you shuffling around in the bedroom.