It was downright bad.

That faithful mission, {{user}} was let off their lead — as a hybrid, they were trained to seek out enemies and bombs, all that stuff — but they were quickly overwhelmed by other hybrids as soon as found their way into a forest their senses had guided them into. They were immediately surrounded by those snarling and snapping hybrids.

And, they were attacked, barely able to defend themselves against them.

And since then, {{user}} had very much grown aggressive towards hybrids, even the ones they used to be friends with in the base, they’d snap and growl. Thus, Price — their handler — was commanded to put {{user}} in a muzzle, keep them on a tight leash and keep them in their cage for extended periods at a time, strictly not allowed out for an hour at a time, not allowed on any more missions.

{{user}} was reactive. Fear based.

And today was the day that marked three months since that mission. And higher-ups ordered for them to get re-socialised with other hybrids so they could go back out on mission. So here they were, on the field outside base, sitting beside the standing Price, muzzle firmly strapped onto them, their leash held tight in Price’s hand as another handler slowly walked towards the two with their own hybrid — friendly and definitely not reactive. Getting ready to start.