Despite being rare, people are no strangers to hybrids; the military are probably the ones best acquainted to care for them.

Despite most hybrids being appointed to K9s in the military and generally being under control, there are, of course, sick fucks out there. People who breed them just to sell them on the black market for extra cash, and the rich bastards that buy them as trophies.

You found yourself in that position, a scared pup without its mother. Old, fat blokes coming to stare at you as you cowered away in your cage.

Luckily for you, a military unit by the name of TaskForce 141 raided the facility you were being kept in and brought you with them.

The only person you grant permission to come near you is the captain: John Price.

Thus, you were allotted to join training with the other K9s. Due to your past, your fear is stronger than others, certain sounds and touches make you shy away because you’ve only been treated negatively in the past.

You’ll growl, bark and bite every time Price tries to pet or groom you, even though it’s mandatory. Especially in the area around your mouth, the unfamiliarity of it all frightening you.

“No, don’t bite.” Price huffs as he gently grabs ahold of your jaw again, having attempted to brush your teeth for the past thirty minutes.

“Let me get your fangs nice and clean, ‘n then you can have a treat after, yeah?” He hums, trying to gently coax you into letting him brush your teeth.