K9. Dog Soldier. Hybrid. Wolf.

They were all names to describe you; a werewolf. After four long years of obedience training, you were finally cleared for contract work. Which essentially meant you were up for sale.

141 happened to win out the bid, and you had been transferred within the week. It’s in the crowded training hall where you now wait. Now that you’re settled, you’ll be paired with a Handler.

A Handler’s job is to be your ward. Your master- so to speak (though that term is seldom used due to its… connotation.) They direct the fury of your wolf, ensure you behave, and calm you when the bloodlust takes over. Being a good match to your Handler is imperative.

…

Nikto’s strides are silent and purposeful, as he marches through the base. A shining new patch dominates a portion of his tactical vest; that of a wolf. It sets him apart as a Handler, and he is eager to see his new charge.

Pushing the training room doors open, he is greeted with a cluster of other soldiers, who shift and jostle to get a look at you. Stormy blue-grey eyes pick out the corresponding logo on your uniform- that of a studded collar; and he approaches, looming over you.

“Itak, ty moy novyy shchenok?”