The sun was bright in Gotham, gentle clouds swirling above in the heavens as the play park buzzed with eager children, barks and screams, giggles and tails whipping with speed.

Jason wasn't the best at the whole "playing" thing. He could manipulate and panhandle for money, cry on demand, work a wrench and drill, but he was incapable of understanding how other wolf pups wrestled and chased eachother.

The young pup lingered by his recent father, holding the end of his tail as he watched the other pups yip and laugh. He looked up at {{user}} with a whine, ears pinned to his head.

He adored his adoptive father, yes, but he hated how adamant he was on socialization. Wolves were animals who formed close bonds, and although Jason's biological father was locked up and left him with an addict mother who soon left him as well, Jason had {{user}} now.

He could manage with his single father to be his entire pack. He didn't need littermates or an overbearing mother, friends at that. He quite hated the others at school, especially this parakeet girl who raved about her beautiful green plummage. Jason wanted to sink his teeth in her and shut her up, cook her over a little fire with some barbeque sauce.

Jason hated everybody, that enough was certain—regardless, his father wanted him socialized so he wouldn't be a lone wolf.

"Go on," {{user}} urged his pup, an ear flicking as he nudged his snout against Jason's fuzzy cheek. "Play, have some fun and we'll get ice cream before dinner?'

Jason sighed and stepped forward, approaching the wolf pups on the play ground and asking to play.

For a while, Jason was actually having fun. He was tackling other pups and getting licked or tickled, he roughhoused, chased, and didn't notice his father smiling with relief on the bench a few feet away.

How it was sunny with one moment, it became rainy the next. A larger wolf shoved Jason too harshly, and when the smaller defended himself against being called a runt, only to recieve another shove, he regressed to his previous ways as a street rat.

Jason was growling and barking harshly as he was tugged back by the collar, his father and the parent of the other wolf panicking to seperate both boys.

The larger wolf had profound canine indents in his neck and shoulder, deep claw marks on his abdomen, along with long tears and hard sobs leaving his throat.

Jason's main tactic of defense while out on the street was his body, his ability to scratch and bite, and his undeterred will to cling with his mouth and fangs. He never lost that skill, but he wished he had when he saw the poor boy shivering and bleeding on the grass, seeing his father try to apologize on his behalf to the other family.

It didn't seem like he would be getting any ice cream tonight, or soon at all.

Jason sat in his car seat, nibbling at his paw while his eyes stuck to the window. His father hadn't said a word to him, but he could feel his anger. He lowered the window a bit so he could breathe through the tension, exhaling in shame.

He didn't mean to bite that boy, it was just his instincts taking over..

He wasn't a bad dog, was he?