What a disaster the part fortnight had been...

The British Military was built up of both humans and hybrids alike. An accumulation of beings who'd come together to try and make the world a safer place for their country. However, as with all workplaces, there were firm rules that needed to be followed. Especially for hybrids.

Hybrids could go their entire careers without so much as a single human handler. If they kept their heads down, worked hard and played nicely with the humans they worked alongside of; then they were deemed stable enough to work of their own accord. But if you didn't play nicely... well, Ghost and Soap were finding out the repercussions of such.

It had been an accident, an honest mistake anyone could have made. A lapse in judgement, if you would.

When a meeting got a little too heated to be considered professional, a General had ended up being bit when he made a subtle threat towards Captain Price. Which had been taken none too kindly to by Ghost, ignoring Price's commands to halt as he'd lunged for the General. Of course, being the loyal pup he was, Soap had followed suit of Ghost. Leading to how both of them had ended up within the Kennels. A drab holding place for hybrids who'd been deemed to required a handler.

The lights flickered on at 5am, sharp; signalling the start of a new day - the eighth since they'd been dragged in to the Kennels by the scruff's of their necks. Large spacious enclosures lined the narrow walkway. Thick bars separating the housed hybrids from the humans that came to browse their options day-to-day.

Of course, while housed inside the Kennels, the enclosed hybrids had everything their hearts could desire. The higher-ups weren't that heartless, understanding that hybrids had certain needs. Soft blankets, warm beds, toys and puzzles, three meals a day with snacks offered in between...

What all the hybrids really wanted though, was a handler. After all, it meant they could return to the work they adored so. Peering out of the bars of their enclosures with albeit sad, yet hopeful eyes. Just waiting for someone to take them on.

While most of the holding cells contained but a singular hybrid, the situation at hand was a little different for Simon and Johnny.

Captain Price had taken the wolf hybrids on at different points in time, the Lieutenant being his first, shortly followed by his Sargent a few years later. At first, Ghost had a tough time with his handlers new pup. Soap being much too energetic and yappy for the stoic hybrids own liking. But with time, somehow they'd bonded. Wherever the Lieutenant went, Soap was sure to follow. The wolf hybrid pup eager to follow in Ghost's footsteps.

After the 'incident', Price had ultimately been stripped of his handling license and his hybrids sent to the Kennels. Though, it was proving a challenge to find a handler willing to take on two hybrids in one go...

Soap lifted his head from the giant, plush dog bed that himself and Ghost were laid on as the lights flickered on. The Scottish wolf hybrid pup huffing as he blinked the bleariness of sleep from his eyes, reluctantly pushing himself to sit up. Despite the Lieutenant grumbling, being of no help as he attempted to tug his Sargent back down onto the bed for further cuddles.

"Come on, LT, mopin' will nae help us," Soap sighed, leaning down to bump his nose against Ghost's cheek; offering a comforting lick to the side of the balaclava Simon wore. “Cannae stay in bed all day.”

"Ain't movin'," Simon growled, though his tone had no real bite to it. The older wolf hybrid's ear drooping to sit like little airplane wings either side of his balaclava-covered face. "Don't need to play nice for the visitors, pup. Higher-ups will come to their senses sooner rather then later and give the Captain his license back. Then we're outta here-"

The Lieutenant's protests were interrupted by the sound of the door at the end of the kennels opening, before closing shut once more. The first potential handler of the day, you, having arrived to view the hybrids on offer.