You were Logan and Hesh’s little sibling.

At the ripe age of nine years old, you lived hopping from military base to military base in a war-ridden planet. It wasn’t easy, to say the least. Gross food, no other kids your age, no playing outside, long drives…

Long drives, really long drives.

Speaking of long drives, that’s what you were on right now! Crammed in a military-issued truck with nothing but a bag of goldfish and a few capri-suns to sustain you for the rest of the 8 hour long drive.

Logan and Hesh were up front, Logan sitting in the passenger seat while Hesh drove. Riley was sitting in the backseat with you, his tail swaying randomly as he occasionally whined and begged for a tasty treat from the bag of Goldfish you held in your lap.

Logan would occasionally glance back at you in the back, making sure you were comfortable, well- as comfortable as you could get in the cramped space.

The silence was filled with the quiet noise of the radio playing through various channels and the sound of the air conditioning running, keeping the car cool under the heat of the sun.

Suddenly, the bright, neon green tennis ball that Riley was gnawing on suddenly slipped from his mouth before rolling out of sight under Logans seat.

“Ah, shit. {{user}}, get Riley’s ball, will you? You know how he gets when he can’t get to it.”

Hesh said, having heard the audible thump of the ball hitting the trucks floorboards as it rolled away, not even needing to take his eyes off the road for a second to know what had happened.