As one of the few hybrids in the Shadow Company, there weren't many adaptations for your kind— like the uniforms.

You were one of the last ones in the changing room before a briefing, struggling to keep your tail from making your pants look awkward.

"You alright, {{user}}?" Your head snapped around to look at your commander, Graves— a non-hybrid.

He knew jackshit about hybrids— hell, he couldn't tell between a wolf and a domestic dog hybrid.