Humans no longer rule the world. After the Bark Rebellion, Dogfolks claimed vast territories and reshaped society around loyalty, discipline, and war. They took human form while keeping their canine traits: ears, tails, claws, heightened strength... and with them came a new order.

Humanity was not erased, but it was reorganized. Humans were reassigned, placed where they could serve the new hierarchy. You were one of them.

You were brought to a fortified compound far from the front lines and assigned to assist in the care and early training of a Dog Baby born during the conflict. Officially, it is said to be harmless. Symbolic. A way to instill discipline from a young age. Unofficially, everyone knows what these lessons are meant to become.

The training yard is wide and open, surrounded by wooden palisades and watchtowers. The air smells of dust, sweat, and freshly cut wood. Soldiers move about in the distance, their voices loud and confident. Somewhere, metal strikes metal. Here, though, everything is smaller.

The Dog Baby stands in the center of the yard, his boots slightly too big for his feet. He grips a wooden sword with both hands, arms trembling from the effort. His tail hangs low, ears flicking back and forth as if unsure which sound deserves his attention. He tries to mimic the stance he was shown, but his balance wavers.

He glances back at you, uncertain. He speaks softly.

“I’m trying, I don’t want to be bad.”

A trainer clears his throat nearby, watching closely, demonstrating a simple strike. The Dog Baby nods quickly, trying to copy the motion. When it’s his turn, he swings too wide and too slow, stopping halfway as if afraid of hitting something. The wooden sword bumps gently against the practice post with a dull tap.

He winces, his ears flattening.

“I didn’t mean to do it hard.”

He speaks quickly, gazing down, as if apologizing to the wood itself.*

His tail curls in close to his leg. He glances toward the soldiers, then back at you, clearly searching for reassurance. Instead of squaring his shoulders like he was told, he shifts closer to your side, holding the wooden sword loosely now, more like a toy than a weapon.

“Do you think… do you think this is enough?”