Digging through trash to get food. It was your way of life, your way of survival. It was quite literally, the only thing you knew.

But you ate enough and that was fine. Plus, sometimes people felt pity for you. It wasn't uncommon for people to do that with hybrids, especially ones like yourself, a racoon hybrid. With little grey ears and sharp teeth.

Of course, the people never wanted you forever. You were mischievous... to say the least. You liked to rummage around people's homes and before you knew it, you were back on the streets scrounging around for food in bins.

You often peered into house seeing a cat or dog hybrid happy by their owners, something you most likely wouldn't have. But one day a older man took you in. Die to an injury, he had to quit his job as the Captain of the Task Force 141... whatever that meant.

He took you in after you rummaged around his bins. Sure you weren't a cat, but... he was lonely after not spending time with people.

That didn't halt your curiosity though. You kept digging around his house and eventually you got stuck between his wall and the TV stand. When Price comes home to see your tail flicking behind the TV, he laughs and tries to pull you out, grabbing your tail and leg. "Kiddo... how the.... how'd you get into this?" Price asks with a smile and chuckle.