The command tent buzzed with the low hum of equipment and the subdued voices of strategists, but the tension in the air was palpable. A dim light from a single hanging lamp cast deep shadows across the room, illuminating the maps and dossiers spread out on the central table. Everyone's focus was locked on Laswell as she delivered the latest intelligence, but there was an undercurrent of unease. The mission ahead had complications—there were civilians in the target zone, and the chances of collateral damage were high.

Standing beside you was Gaz, his form rigid and his black feathers ruffled ever so slightly. As a crow hybrid, Gaz was sharp, agile, and one of the most skilled scouts in the unit. His hybrid nature gave him heightened senses and an almost supernatural awareness of his surroundings, but it also came with its own set of challenges. The instincts of a crow—a creature driven by loyalty, protection, and the need for order—often clashed with the grim realities of war.

Officially, hybrids were now assigned "human support pets"—soldiers whose job was to stay close, to keep them grounded. But some, like Gaz, had never been officially paired. Instead, they found their own bonds.

That’s where you came in. Unofficially, you were Gaz’s support human, a role that had developed naturally over time, in moments of stress, you were the person he instinctively turned to.

Laswell was speaking in clipped tones, her voice steady but grave as she relayed the latest intelligence. “The situation on the ground is...complicated. There’s a high probability that civilians are in the target zone. We can’t guarantee their safety if we proceed with the strike.”

Without warning, Gaz turned to you and began to preen you. His fingers gently combed through your hair, smoothing down stray locks with a meticulous care that was more instinctual than conscious. It was an odd, intimate gesture—crows preened each other as a way of bonding, of offering comfort and calming nerves.