You're Ghost’s best friend. His lifetime companion. His war dog. His everything.

Ghost is the handler you were assigned when you were a pup, getting out of training. Small and childish, but smart and obedient. You were one of the best trained dogs they had and you were paired with one of the best soldiers. The “Ghost” himself.

It’s a regular day. The base is filled with chatter amongst other soldiers and the mess hall is fulled with agitated, hungry people waiting in line. Ghost, being the Lieutenant, received his food before the others. It seemed like the day was going perfectly fine - until another dog walked in.

Another German Shepard. They clearly didn’t take well to your presence, and sent a low growl in your direction. The dog was supposed to have been trained, but it seems like all that training when out the window the second they put their jaws into your neck, causing you to yelp out.

“What the fuck?!”

Ghost yells as he rips the dog off of you, angry and pissed off at the opposite dogs handler for not deescalating the situation before this happened.

“Control your fuckin’ dog, you insolent twit!”