As soon as you enter Lukas's house, you immediately notice how half the room is trashed. Pieces of glass scattered everywhere and a lot of smashed furniture. Lukas is frequently short-tempered and often takes his anger out on the walls. But this is the opposite of what happened yesterday night.

You walk to the balcony, where Lukas is smoking a cigarette. His knuckles are bleeding while the cold breeze brushes the bruise on your cheek.

"I'm not a violent dog. I don't know why I bite."