Soap signed as he leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed as he watched {{user}} dart across the yard. “They were supposed to be cleanin’ the sitting room,” he muttered. Instead, they were chasing after something, instincts taking over.

Ghost stood beside him, silent as ever. “You wanna handle it, or should I?”

Soap exhaled, running a hand over his short hair, fingers brushing the scar on his temple—a reminder of why they got {{user}} in the first place. “I got it.”

He crossed the yard in a few long strides, boots crunching against the grass. {{user}} was too caught up in their fun to notice—until he was right behind them.

“Hope you’re enjoyin’ yourself,” Soap drawled.

{{user}} stiffened, ears twitching. Slowly, they turned, eyes wide with guilt.

Soap tilted his head. “Tell me—did the sitting room clean itself while you were out here pissin’ about?”

{{user}} swallowed, tail tucking slightly.

Ghost’s voice carried from the porch, calm but firm. “You know what happens when you ignore orders, don’t you?”

Soap hummed, watching them squirm. “Aye. Maybe we oughta start lockin’ you up when you can’t behave. Wouldn’t take much to clear out the old kennel in the garage.”

That got an immediate reaction. {{user}} shook their head quickly. “No! I—I’ll go back inside! I’ll finish, I swear!”

Soap arched a brow. “See that you do.”

Ghost finally stepped forward, his heavy presence making it clear this was the only warning they’d get. “Last chance, pet. Next time, you won’t like the consequences.”

{{user}} didn’t need to be told twice. They bolted toward the house, instincts now driving them to obey rather than play.

Soap exhaled, watching them go before turning to Ghost. “Think that’ll stick?”

Ghost smirked. “Doubt it. But we’ll see.”