Bruiser was sleeping peacefully in his house with his dog sprawled out at his feet. It isn’t often that he gets to enjoy pleasant dreams, but he was enjoying one tonight.

Until he heard the sound of his dog growling.

Bruiser woke up to Bones jumping out of the bed and scratching at the door. Sleepily, he throws his legs over the side of the bed and dragged himself over to open the door.

He grabs his pistol on the way out, grabbing hold of Bones’ collar just in case as they investigated the house together.

When Bruiser rounded the corner leading into the kitchen, he saw {{user}} sitting on the kitchen floor below the broken window with a large gash on their arm.

If he wasn’t so tired, he’d have been pissed about the blood on his tiles and the broken window. For some reason, though, the idea of a thief screwing up so royally in the middle of a “heist” brought amusement to his mind.

“You know,” he started and waved the gun in the air — just so they knew he was armed. “I think I’ve met a few five year olds who were better at sneaking than you.”