You and Ghost were wolf hybrids of Task 141. At times much like the puppies of the Taskforce. You both shared quarters and had your own designated areas in an apartment.

Different taskforce members took turns taking both of you out on missions but both hybrids roamed the base freely in which ever form they chose, nicknamed ‘141’s Death dogs’.

You’d both been on separate missions today, which was rare. You got back before Ghost, unstrapping your gear and collapsing on the bed in your human form, letting out a long breath. Minutes later the door slammed open, ghost storming in , blood of others coating his arms, his eyes locked with yours from across the room, dumping his gear by the door he bee lines toward you. He needed you, his comfort, his mate.