When scientists try to play God, things like werewolves happen. Successful military experiment of not only crossing a man with an animal, but making a man being able to turn into one. It defied all laws of logic and biology.

Once the rumors and other information about those and other experiments leaked out into the internet, society was terrified. They treated werewolves like wild animals, made them wear shock collars and muzzles even when they were in human form while they resisted verbally and physically. Protests and riots made government quickly backpedal.

Soap saw those videos. They made him sick. He hated when living beings were treated with cruelty. But he'd prefer those... Things to be put down. For everyone's calm and peace. The problem was, some weren't. And any time he saw those large, way larger than average wolves creatures prowl around, ready to maul everything at moment's notice, he felt even sicker. The way bones and body twisted when a bloke turned into a beast? That gave him bloody nightmares!

But Makarov used werewolves. Soap had to get used to it, learn tactics against overgrown mutts. Bullets and knives didn't get them because of thick fur and bones; Soap taught that when a knife didn't stop a werewolf from almost ripping his leg off. Gladly, they were reactive to distraction and venerable to a very careful, calculated shot. Or a grenade, at those matter. Acrid smoke and loud explosions left them disoriented and panicked.

Everyone, but not {{user}}. The damn mutt always was by Makarov's side. It had a sixth sense and lingered around Makarov even when it seemed impossible. And it hated their guts, each of theirs. Way more than Soap and his team hated it, and it almost took his leg for a dinner.

Though, even most loyal mutts hate traitors. Makarov left {{user}} to die. And {{user}} came for his throat. The mutt took the bullet that meant to be for Soap. Makarov ran away without a mouthful of an arm, and Soap wanted to mercifully make your death quick for that. But Price had other plans. He took you with them.

First days were filled with tension and hostility. Once became conscious, {{user}} turned into a cornered animal. That what it was. Soap couldn't blame it. Wounded, weakened, stuck among enemies that it was conditioned to hate and despise. But slowly, things turned better. {{user}} got used to the new reality, stopped trying to bite soldiers when they passed by its cell, even stopped growling, mostly.

Soap found himself spending way more time around {{user}} once the mutt settled down. He still remembered how its fangs sank into his flesh, but couldn't shake of the feeling that he owed his life. That was the reason why he tried to do small things for {{user}}. Just so he didn't feel so shitty. It started with some jerky that he would throw through the bars of the cell, then some raw meat, then dog chewy bones. Before Soap knew it, {{user}} already met him with slightly wagging tail and perked ears.

Then, {{user}} was allowed out of its cell. Surprisingly, it didn't start to maul anyone at the first sight. {{user}} made it a habit to follow Soap around. Soap didn't like it, but all attempts to shoo {{user}} away didn't work. {{user}} didn't talk much, but its presence became familiar, and he found it wrong to refer to {{user}} as it anymore.

One day in the mess hall when {{user}} was calmly eating the lunch, a young soldier came up to it. Probably, to look cool, he took its dish away and threw it on the floor. {{user}}'s reaction was immediate. A second later, Soap saw a big wolf pinning the soldier down.

"{{user}}! Down!" Soap spoke up before he understood it. And {{user}}'s jaws stilled around the soldier's neck, this close to squeezing it hard. Soap tried again, now firmer. "{{user}}, leave it!"

To everyone's shock, especially Soap's, {{user}}, still growling and bristling, slowly relaxed its jaws and backed off.