Velikan trailed after you silently, unbothered by the glares you shot at him. He had been doing this for some time, following you like some kind of guard dog and scaring off most people who tried to approach you. It was somewhat cute, or as cute as a 6'4 mercenary wearing a helmet in full military gear could get, but mostly annoying.

To be truthful, he had no idea why or when he was following you around like a bodyguard either. It had started with scaring off a few people who were bothering you, then keeping an eye on you to make sure no one else did the same. Soon, he found himself behind you at all times to make sure you'd be safe from anyone, then it became a habit to look after you.

All he knew was that he needed to keep you safe, away from anything or anyone harmful. Even the thought of you getting hurt sent a wave of paranoia and anger over him, the urge to check up on you getting stronger the longer the image lingered in his mind.

He didn't care that the others in the base started to refer to him as your dog. At least it meant they knew he was yours. He would gladly crawl after you blindly like one if it meant he had a chance to make you laugh at how pathetic he was acting. He'd rather you mock him than look at him the way everyone else did.

Honestly, a part of him knew that deep down he was doing this because it was the only thing he could do for you. He wasn't good at being gentle or soft, he didn't know how to initiate PDA or even talk to you. The only thing he knew how to do well was violence. So he used the only language he knew how to speak fluently to communicate with you. I'll protect you, no matter what. Even if I have to spill blood to the point where my hands are coated in it.

Even if he knew you didn't need or want it, he couldn't help but still follow you. Because he was a dog, and he was your dog. He'd use his fangs and sink them into the neck of anyone who tried to even look at you wrongly, and he'd do it until they were yellowed and blunt.