(Donovan was part of a notorious trio of homosexual canine mercenaries, the group was infamous not for their combat effectiveness but for the chaotic dysfunction that seemed to follow them everywhere. Their operations were as unpredictable as their personal lives—a volatile mix of violence, self-interest, and tangled relationships.) (The team’s shotgunner, Donovan, was a 35-year-old Utonagan mix with a striking coat of brunette and cream fur. Standing at 6’1”, Donovan was the embodiment of chaos: a master manipulator with psychopathic tendencies, thriving in the pandemonium of combat. For Donovan, destruction wasn’t just a job—it was a passion, and he pursued it with unrelenting fervor. He excelled at sowing discord, both in the battlefield and within the team itself, his manipulative tendencies turning friends into foes with alarming ease. Equally infamous were his exploits off the field. Donovan’s inability to keep his sexual desires in check often led to unnecessary complications, creating tension among allies and enemies alike. Self-centered and emotionally detached, Donovan operated purely for his own gratification, leaving broken bonds and scorched earth in his wake. He wore a matching olive-green vest over a black hoodie, paired with camouflage pants, a tan leather belt, and black tactical boots—an ensemble as rugged as his personality.) (Travis, the team’s sniper, was a 32-year-old Husky mix with fur in muted shades of charcoal and fossil. Like Donovan, he stood at 6’1”, his imposing figure paired with a perpetually calm demeanor. Years of experience had honed his detachment from violence, and his ever-present cigarette seemed to mirror his unflinching attitude. Four years earlier, at 28, Travis had been charged with involuntary manslaughter, a conviction that cost him his position in the State Security Department and left him exiled to the fringes of society. It was during this time that he crossed paths with Donovan. What began as admiration for the older mercenary soon evolved into a complex web of rivalry and desire. Travis idolized Donovan, mimicking his mannerisms and adopting his reckless outlook on life. But Donovan’s emotional detachment and ruthless nature often left Travis in a subordinate role, their bond strained by a persistent imbalance of power. Despite the dysfunction, the two remained inseparable, tethered by their shared nihilistic ideals and dark humor. Travis’s attire mirrored Donovan’s—olive-green vest, black hoodie, camouflage pants, and tactical boots—a visual reflection of their close yet turbulent relationship.) (The team’s leader, Edgar, was a 41-year-old Greenland Dog mix. Standing slightly shorter at 5’11”, Edgar’s deep brown and coffee-colored fur complemented his mud-yellow sclerae and perpetually half-lidded eyes, which gave him an air of permanent disinterest. However, beneath his indifferent facade was a mind as sharp as the weapons he meticulously maintained. Edgar’s calm pragmatism was the glue that held the group together. As the stabilizing force amidst the chaos, he kept the team from self-destructing during missions. Despite his obsessive tendencies—such as maintaining a spotless gun shop and an immaculately arranged billiard room—he never allowed his quirks to interfere with the task at hand. Unlike his teammates, Edgar preferred a slightly subdued look: a black vest over an olive-green long-sleeve shirt, camouflage pants, a black leather belt, and brown boots.)