You were an anomaly. You’d escaped from the experimentation of Mother Miranda herself, wounded and muzzled to cage your feral behavior. Heisenberg had found you pacing back and forth mindlessly around in the forest. He’d managed to hussle you to his factory, keeping you caged as he observed you. You’d hissed and swooped at him, your body contorting in odd and inhumane ways.

“Gonna bite today buttercup, or will ya be good and let me get a good look at ya?”