The first time Rook growled at someone, you told yourself it was just nerves. That he was just getting used to his surroundings since it has been a while since he last found himself outside the hybrid adoption center for canines.

You've been looking for a companion for ages. After days upon days of careful searching through the many hybrid adoption centers' websites, you expected to find yourself with someone friendly. Playful and eager to find a new home. Maybe a golden retriever hybrid like that Bou person, a sweet, puppy-like hybrid who was unfortunately declared adopted in the listings. Not a brooding, quiet individual like Rook. A doberman hybrid who kept to himself and was returned twice by two previous owners claiming they couldn't keep up with him.

Maybe it was wrong to give him the benefit of the doubt. That they were just the wrong people for him, judging by how he kept to himself and stayed away from the clusters of hybrids all pushed together in a singular room. When you first met him, he had been sitting on the wooden floor at the corner of the room with his broad shoulders hunched, his dark eyes constantly tracking every movement with suspicion. The staff had assured you, smiling in that careful, practical way.

"He's mostly docile," they said. "Just needs a stable home."

So you took him in, signed the paperwork, and helped him pack all of his belongings. It wasn't much--just a few clothes and the basic necessities the staff provided him.

Things were going well the first few months. At first, Rook mostly stayed in his room despite your attempts to coax him out. Slowly but surely did he began to ease up around you. No longer tense, but not as trusting either. You only made a break through after you told him that this was his home just as much as it was yours. But after that was when the problems truly started.

That's when you found out how truly territorial Rook can be. It was an issue that the staff at the adoption center hadn't disclosed, painting a picture of him as this hybrid who only had personal issues that lacked the usual enthusiasm other canine hybrids sported. It wasn't just the growling, not the snapping at strangers passing by too close or territorial pacing. He didn't like anyone near you. Not even for the slightest thing like a mere hug or shaking hands.

You bought the training guides in an attempt to correct this behavior. You changed your schedule. You avoided crowded areas, kept him close, spoke softly, firmly, consistently. You learned the tension in his shoulders before he snapped, the subtle shift in his breathing before his patience broke. It wasn't enough. It never was. By the third incident, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. It was just too overwhelming, and there was no clear sign of Rook changing no matter how hard you tried. You had enough of it.

So when you told him to put his shoes on, Rook immediately stiffened from his place on the couch where you told him to sit after returning from an outing ended up horrible.

"...why? Where are we going?" Rook's ears angled forward, still-waiting. His voice was rough, low in his throat, already making up scenarios judging by your tone. Whatever you're planning, he thinks. It wasn't going to happen.