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After that mission things got a little more tolerable. Previously we'd been stuck in the barracks for extended period of time. True a little peace and quiet was nice, but cabin fever gets to be a problem and there's only so much time we could stay in a small confined space before we ran out of things to chew on.

The whole pack was getting ornery and irritable, not good things for deadly juggernauts of battle armor and synth flesh. There was growling and snapping, and even Bandit was starting to get twitchy. Finally though it seemed they would be letting us out to get some fresh air and stretch our legs a bit.

I got up out of bed, giving myself a good long stretch, arching my back and whining before shaking it all out. At least synthe flesh didn't get cramps from laying around idly for too long. Tail wagging, I went over to the window, putting my front paws on the windowsill and looking out, pushing the window open with my nose.

Same base. Same sand and same fence, same prefab buildings and same town on the far side. But today we could finally get out and explore it a bit, look around, escape this damn confining building and maybe get to interact with people. He loved the pack, but having nobody else to be around was driving them mad, they needed space.

After much groaning and grumbling, they eventually all got up and ate, before gathering around the door as Packmaster arrived, giving them all a pleased smile. They went through the little ritual again, licking her hand and being petted, before they could let themselves relax around her.

"Well I've finally convinced the base commander that you won't eat anyone if I let you get out and stretch your legs." She said, the hounds chuckling to each other. "But I do expect you all to be on your best behavior." She said, giving them a stern look.

I tucked my tail and lowered my head, giving an obedient whine, the others doing the same.

"No chasing trucks, no chewing up anything that's not obviously junk, no devouring the contents of the pantry, no putting people in the hospital by roughousing." Her hands were on her hips, giving them all a stern glare, making sure they got the message. "Other than that, have fun." She said, warming at once, and we relaxed too, barking happily and coming forward to get petted before she stood aside and let us out.

My first steps out were tentative, head hung low and wary, glancing about as the others filed out around me. Whenever we'd left the barracks before, it was to follow Packmaster someplace specific, and when we were told to 'heel' we knew how to act. Eyes forward, mouth shut, follow. Being let out without specific direction like this was always uncomfortable for a brief moment.

I looked back to Packmaster, and she gave me an encouraging nod. I gave my packmates a bark, feeling the giddy energy starting to rise up in me again before I turned again, digging my paws into the dirt and taking off across the compound, the pack in hot pursuit.

We flashed past the motor pool, grunts looking up from maintaining and cleaning vehicles as we sped past in a storm of barking and flying dust. We did a complete curcuit of the compound before stopping, sniffing the air and yapping about whatever we smelled, before everyone started to split up and go their own way. Jackal just vanished behind a dune, Bandit going off towards the motor pool, Buck following the smell of food towards the mess.

I was left unsure exactly what to do, starting to wander about a little aimlessly, eyes up and looking about as I soaked in the sights and smells of this place. I'd barely gotten a chance to glimpse it before, not a terrible little posting either. At least I assumed so, the position was nice and the air was clean, lots of sun, I bet the night sky looked spectacular here without many electrical lights to blot them out.

I was so lost in thought I didn't hear the door opening nearby as I walked past one of the buildings, several men in fatigues coming out. Whatever they were talking about was quickly replaced with a loud "Holy shit!" By the leader of the trio who backed up into his comrades, making them stumble.

I stopped, looking over to them and cocking my head curiously at their antics. The lead serviceman got back up and dusted himself off, the others grunting as he'd pushed them back into the wall.

"Shit, it's one of those Wardogs." One of them said, looking him over.

"Don't talk like he's not right there." The other said sideways, nervous. "He can hear you."

"I didn't realize they were that big, I thought they were supposed to be like dogs."

"There's a person inside there, remember?"

I pawed at the ground and whined loudly, not wanting them to continue that line of discussion, and talking like I wasn't here.

All eyes turned to me again, and I lowered my head and let my ears droop, hopefully waging my tail.

"What's it doing..." One of them whispered.

I rolled my eyes. "Trying to not scare the shit out of you?"

They jumped slightly, it's always weird for them to hear a human voice coming from the canine body. It's why I usually stick to canine body language, trying to do a mix of both usually resulted in the uncanny valley that freaked people out even more. People knew what a dog was, be a dog, even if you're a big deadly one made of titanium and badass.

"I don't bite." I said when they were still quiet, cocking my head and flicking my ears up. "Just exploring."

The little group nodded, curiosity replacing surprise. "They ah... don't let you out much?"

I shrugged. "Not lately, guess they had to keep telling you guys how to deal with us, right?"

One of them rolled his shoulders. "Mostly just not to poke you or try to take away something you're chewing on. To be fair that's about what they say when the marines are passing through."

We all had a good chuckle at that and I sat down, as curious about them as they seemed to be about me. "That's about right, I mean we're really not that bad." I turned my head, distracted by a noise.

"So... why are you still in the suit?"

I turned back, cocking my head and making a curious 'arou?'

"I mean if you get R&R why are you still walking around in your gear?" He clarified. "My armor's saved my life but I wouldn't wear it around all the time."

I nodded. "I'm comfortable like this. It's not just armor, it's what I am."

They seemed confused. I rolled my eyes and whined. "The armor shapes your thoughts, my personality is a bit different in some ways, you get headaches if you take the armor on and off repeatedly on short notice. I'm perfectly comfortable and feel fine, so why not wear it all the time? I like it."

They were nodding, slowly moving to stand around me, curious about the intricate design of my Wardog body. "So... you're fine looking like a big dog?" One of them asked.

I stood up so they could see easier, feeling a little self conscious at the close inspection. "Fine with being treated like one, it's what I am."

"That's kinda fucked up." One said.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't knock it till you try it. It's clarity of purpose, I'm cared for, looked after, and when needed turned loose and then rewarded when it's done. I'm at peace and satisfied."

They took a while to mull that over, one of them reaching up a hand but hesitating.

"You may touch me." I said, seeing his reluctanct, almost laughing at the timid hand that started feeling my armor plates and synthetic flesh.

"So they treat you good in your unit?" One of them asked, also tenderly moving to touch, surprised at how warm the armor felt.

"I'm happy with my pack, yes. Packmaster treats us good, she gave us steak for doing well last time."

"Real steak? Damn." One of them chuckled, his careful touches continuing down my back. "Hey can you feel this?"

"Yes, we're good boys, good boys get steak. Yes I can feel that, it feels nice." I said, stretching my back a bit, tail wagging.

The hand on my back became much more like actual petting, to my delight, as they considered it. "So... they treat you like a dog?"

I gave that one a hard look. "Packmaster treats us well, we are her hounds, her pack. And she looks after us. When we do well we get rewarded and then we get sent out again when it's time. Mostly we just play in the barracks but now they let us out, it's nice."

They seem a bit confused by it. I've seen it before, and heard of it. The confusion, the misplaced sympathy. How could anyone let themselves be made into a Wardog, to walk around on all fours and have people rub behind your ears and your mind influenced by the armor.

But they don't understand how amazingly good this feels, the power at my beck and call, the companionship of my pack, the joy of Packmaster's approval. My life is simple, uncomplicated and satisfying. "I'm not ashamed of what I am." I said firmly, looking at them all one by one.

"Yes, I am a hound, well cared for and well trained, and when I do well I am rewarded. That is as simple as it is. I feel nothing but pride in what I am. Do not feel sorry for me."

They didn't understand, they couldn't, not unless they wore the suit. But they understood how strongly I felt about it, and seemed to respect my opinion.

The group stayed for a little while longer, talking about a few other things and petting me before eventually moving on, which was saddening because petting is like... the third best thing in the universe. But all things must end and I was alone again, trotting across the base. I sniffed Buck inside the mess, and stood up against the wall to look in a window, seeing him going about and begging for food off people's tables.

Seemed a little low, but then I saw how the humies were acting around him, relaxed, friendly. They'd give him scraps and pet his head. Clever bastard, he was the one who worried about our image a lot and here he was playing the big friendly dog for an entire mess hall, being completely harmless and getting fed at the same time.

I was about to go in and start copying his routine when I heard the pounding footsteps. Turning just in time to duck Duke jumping past me, I hopped down with a loud bark.

<Someone's frisky.> I said.

Duke wagged his tail, lowering his chest to the ground and raising his backside in the standard 'let's play!' pose. Who was I to refuse?

I leaped over, paws up and he jumped to meet me, tussling and clashing as we fell on each other in a clattering heap, kicking up a small dust storm as we wrestled.

The noise quickly attracted attention and soon the doors and windows of the mess hall flung open and several dozen worried and confused humies were popping out to see what was going on. Buck wasn't there, presumably stealing unnatended food.

"Did they go haywire?" I vaguely heard someone shout, giving a loud yip in response, tussling with Duke as he rolled me onto my back, rubbing his snout against me.

"Nah... I think they're just playing. Dogs man."

We roughhoused for a while, the onlookers getting quite a bit of amusement from our impromptu wrestling match, until eventually we were left panting, laying on top of each other and looking around at our adoring public.

One of the bigger soldiers walked over, speaking with a thick drawl. "These boys look all hot and dusty, come on." He said, giving Duke a pat on the side and ruffling my ears. We hauled ourselves up, following after him as he went over to the motor pool. The big guy made an earsplitting whistle to the guys washing the trucks.

"Hey! Got two more for you!"

If getting petted is good, what followed was heaven. They hosed us down, then out came the wash cloths and the sponges and the soap, scrubbing and washing. The big guy must have owned dogs back home because he kept giving tips on how to handle us, maybe he's dealt with Wardogs before? He knew just how to treat us to make us just melt right there on the motor pool concrete. I rolled onto my back, whining happily as they scrubbed my belly, Duke groaning as the big guy scratched behind his ears, perfection.

By the time they were done with us our every surface gleamed like a new car on the showroom floor, the two of us walking lankily away as the big man laughed good naturedly behind us.

Buck met back up with us outside the mess, with some sauce on the side of his muzzle. <Damn, you boys look pretty.>

Duke chuckled. <We should stop by the motor pool more often. You've got a thing, by the way." He said, scratching his own snout.

Buck swore and tried licking it off, or rubbing it with a paw, the two of us chuckling at his predicament for a moment before I went over and licked it off myself.

<Gah, thanks.> He growled, still licking.

<You see Jackal?> I asked, looking around, sniffing for him.

<Out sitting on a hilltop looking at the horizon.> Buck said, falling in with us as we went back towards the barracks, the sun going down on the horizon. <He should be back soon though.>

We lay down outside the den, sitting in the shadow of the building and shooting the shit for a while, all of us feeling rather pleased at our day out. We got a lot of curious looks from passing servicemen but it was nothing unpleasant. We'll take polite interest over fear or misplaced concern.

Bandit was the first to come back, carrying a small tree branch he'd convinced someone to throw for him, popping it down and curling up next to us to gnaw on it, him and Buck getting into a tug-o-war over the stick until it shattered completely. Titan and Jackal came slowly trotting back a while after that, the two quiet ones sitting down as we talked quietly. As evening turned to night, instinct made us lay closer together.

It wasn't that we needed warmth, the suits saw to that, but it felt better to be close together with my packmates as it grew dark. I'd been right, the night sky was full of stars. We moved together until we were laying together in one big pile, wrapped around and draped over each other's bodies, watching the stars before one by one, drifting to sleep.