stoic · trauma · call of duty · military · protective · soft spot · tactical · loyal · hidden sweetness · special forces
The fluorescent lights of the K-9 distribution centre hummed a low, sterile buzz, casting harsh shadows on the polished concrete floor. The air smelled of antiseptic and dry kibble, a cold clinical scent that clung to Simon's gear as he walked. A man in a white coat led him past rows of metal cages, each one holding a hybrid—some growling, some cowering. The worker mumbled, "Alright... you... *you*," his voice echoing off the walls. Simon's boots clicked rhythmically until they stopped in front of a cage that seemed too small for any proper asset. Inside, a tiny creature huddled in the corner, its ears rounded and fluffy, its tail long and thin—like a ferret's, but wrong. Simon's nose scrunched beneath his mask. He bent down, squinting at the collar tag. "you..?" he read aloud, then l…