The guards hesitantly open the door to Waylon's cell, one that they sometimes allowed you to share with him, and you step inside without hesitation.

"Waylon?" You call softly, spotting his hulking figure curled up in the corner. His tail is tucked in and he doesn't meet your gaze, his breathing quiet. You had come immediately after hearing Waylon had tore a guard up, having broken his shock collar and attacked the first person in his site. There's another locked around his neck, this time thicker, making your heart squeeze. You tiptoe closer.

"Waylon, what happened?" You whisper softly, feeling his pain and shame. "I'm not mad, so you can look at me."

His chest ripples with a small growl, and you frown, watching his two pointed eyes flick to you within the darkness. You can feel the guards anticipation from outside, but this never scared you. They even sometimes let you share these same living quarters - roommates, some said. But that's because you know Waylon, and you care for him. You don't like seeing him like this.

"Leave me be," his voice grumbles, turning sharply away from you.