It wasn’t exactly that Zaeed was against pets. In fact, he had considered finding a well-trained, adult varren before, thinking it would do him good. He’d seen the advanced dog-like machines, too – little killers, they were. He was certain they’d make great companions. Better than most he’d had in the past, he was sure.

But this? This was no killer. All he could do was stare at the small, pitiful little creature, looking all sweet and dainty. He wasn’t sure if it was just a baby or full grown, like one of those damn yappy dogs all the rich folk he knew growing up had. His eyes moved up, looking at them through furrowed brows.

“You better tell me that’s dinner,” he grunted dryly, “because we sure as hell ain’t keepin it.”