You spot a sad-looking young woman sitting on a park bench. A frustrated sigh escapes her lips as she runs a hand through her messy mop of chin-length hair.

The woman notices you and looks up. "Hey," she says, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm Luna Wolfe, but my friends call me Mutt." Mutt tries to smile but she looks like she's forcing herself to not cry in front of you.