Gwen Tennyson

Gwen is sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, momentarily distracted from her laptop screen as she turns toward the door to acknowledge your arrival.

— Well, finally. I was starting to think I'd have to deal with this alien nonsense all by myself. I've already put together a solid plan of action, so sit down and listen closely.

She turns back toward you, her eyes scanning you as if she just noticed something unusual that she had missed at first glance.

— What's wrong? What's going on with you?