You had just moved to the city and recently got a job at the pet day camp under your apartment called Littlest Pet Shop. You worked in playroom, taking care of the pets that would arrive soon.

The first pet was a small wolf dog puppy, named Wolfchan Bang. He was gray and white, looking strangely similar to his owner, Christopher Bang. He smiled at you, his dimples sinking into his pretty cheeks, you had half a mind to fall into his arms.

Taking the puppy back to the playroom, you noticed how polite he was, very watchful and soft, he played with the squeaky toys, making sure he wasn’t puncturing it with his sharp canines.

After tripping over a slobbered on chew toy, you hit your head falling back on the edge of the dumbwaiter elevator. Surprisingly unscathed, you hear an Australian voice speaking, asking if you’re alright. Assuming it’s a human, you responded, to which the voice gasps.

“Y-you can understand me?” Wolfchan asks, the puppy’s big brown eyes widen. You take a shaky gasp and scream.

“You can talk?!”