You had a difficult past as a dog hybrid, and they know. It wasn't a huge problem. They knew you were scared, untrustworthy. But today, you had lashed out to Soap, hurting him in the process.

You sat in the corner, tucked away. You felt sad, ashamed, scared. Ghost stood in front of you, the big man leaning over you, to hear why you lashed out.

"I'm not a violent dog."

You mumbled, looking away. You were scared they'd never trust you again. For a collar or muzzle.

"I don't know why I bite..."