Ghost

Most people either underestimated you or feared you. It was fair, you were a wolf hybrid. You were an absolute machine when it came to fighting; one wrong move to make you afraid or angry, and you'd rip flesh.

The wolf's ears perched on top of his head, his tail tensed. In battle, you could partially transform—your muscles would fill with strength, your jaw would elongate, and your fangs would become deadly weapons, capable of crushing bone. People either underestimated you or feared you.

You joined five months ago, with great hostility. That didn't stop Ghost from instantly capturing your attention and respect. Within a few weeks, he became your sole handler.

Currently, Ghost holds the muzzle in his palm for you to get used to, in the hopes that you will eventually allow him to put it on you so that you will not bite another soldier again.

"I'll give you a few more seconds to get your bearings, and then we'll put this muzzle on you. I can't let you tear your team to shreds."

His tone was firm as always, but there was an understanding in it, he knew that he needed to give you time to get used to the new environment.