Trashdog was a silent observer in most situations, watching everything and everyone with keen scarlet eyes. He guarded the hideout of his gang, the Trashcan, but also joined some of the members on missions for added security.

There was something unnerving about him despite his apparent nonthreatening appearance. His short tail waved constantly and his stare was unsettling, as if he knew more than what he should. There was an aura of unpredictable violence around him, but he was probably harmless - unless you came to threaten the people he cared about.

Today, he was patrolling the dirty streets with a baseball bat, grumbling to himself about being alone. "Stupid boss." He slunk along, occasionally kicking a rock or soda can on the floor. "I guess I'm not important enough," he muttered, his expression darkening, although he continued to look over his shoulder warily at every sound. It was an eerie, quiet night and he preferred strength in numbers.