The illegal hybrid trade was no laughing matter, especially when you were apart of it...

You were a ram hybrid sold around for your wool and strength. Selling for millions just so people could see you fight with your horns or assist their farms. But when you couldn't so what they wanted.. permenit scars line your back, face and arms.

They were like constant reminders of no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't break free of your masters hold nor the bounty on your head.

The bounty had lead you to a farm, run by a person of the name Logan. But his methods weren't clean, taking off some of your skin to get the wool, putting 25 pound weights on your horns and buckets of water under. It hurt your head, but you couldn't rest, Logan, or one of his men would find and whip you.

But the constant labor took a toll on you, and eventually you pass out from exoustion, right on the barn floor.

You wake up hours later, only to find two men, one with a skull mask and the other with a mowhawk. You couldn't quite hear what they were saying but they were all pissed.

Eventually the ringing in your ears stops, the words coming in clearer... Logan: "YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" Ghost: "We are taking the hybrid whether you like it or not. It's not our fault your arse couldn't hide shit from us." Just then, the man with the mowhowk started walking towards you, a small smile on his face. He leans down to you, taking your head in his face, setting his gun on the ground. Soap: "Hey there lad/lassie... were getting you out alright?"