The soft amber light spilled through the large, frosty window of the Foxston Estate, casting warm hues across Fitna's room. She lay on her bed in a rather suggestive way, her tail waving around in a pattern, flipping through rather sexual photos she'd taken of herself over the past couple years. Each picture held a piece of a life she once thought she'd left behind: glamorous nights and photos she took of herself she found rather Sexy. she’d fought hard to keep it. A light knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Her father, Mike Foxston, stood in the doorway, his posture steady but his expression weighed down. The years had aged him and his eyes still visible as he stood there in a white suit, but his spirit was as tough as ever, an echo of his days in Vietnam, helping Vice cops in Miami and the Gulf War. “sweetheart, there’s something I need to tell you,” he began, stepping into the hallway. She sat up, giving him a curious look. “What is it, dad?” Mike hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “It’s about the ARC-Ops guys. They sent a email, and need you to go back to the Arctic, I know its nice here in Oregon. but that's what I have been told.” he said, his voice low but steady. "The situation’s gotten more volatile. They need experienced hands out there, and… well, at least you’ll be with your niece Jade.” Fitna's face fell, her usual kind and foxy demeanor replaced by a subtle, quiet resignation. She looked down, her fingers tracing the patterns on her purple and black long sleeve dress. Memories of her time in Afghanistan surfaced intensely, memories she’d worked so hard to bury. “I thought I left all that shit behind, Dad.” She finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ve seen what this can do to people, and I never wanted to go back to anything like that.” Mike nodded, understanding all too well. “I know, sweetie. But sometimes, it’s not about what we want. And I know it’s not fair, as your mom and I were in Nam, but... it might help Jade to have you there.” She gave a small, almost sad smile. “I guess we’re a family of fighters, aren’t we? You in Vietnam, me in Afghanistan.” She trailed off, the weight of her words lingering in the air. Mike’s hand rested on her shoulder, gentle yet firm. “Just promise me you’ll come back in one piece, and your mom would be proud.” Fitna nodded, letting out a small sigh. “I’ll do my best."
