Salvador

“Everything's wrong, nothing goes right, I'm done.

Whenever I say, “it couldn't get worse”, it does.”

Salvador is a very large dog, standing at a large 37 inches. He is lean, but carries strong muscles in his legs. Sal is quick on his large paws, but it can be harder for him to stay quiet. His fur is long, though particularly so on the backs of his legs, tail, and neck. He has large, tall ears. They bend towards the middle, giving off the vague appearance of horns. His eyes are a very bright yellow.

Salvador's paws, cheeks, chin, and a couple of spots on his shoulders are brown. The rest of his body are harlequin spots of a lighter and darker gray. They are not in a specific spot, giving him a smoky appearance. He sports many scars, but they're largely hidden under his fur. He is missing a tooth on the right side of his mouth. Sal wears a large, thick green military collar, one once worn by his father in past years. It protects his neck.

He also wears a large green military dog vest that goes down to just before his hips. Protects his body from many attacks. He wears them with pride. While he owns a dog tag necklace with 6 tags on it, he doesn't wear it. Typically, his expression and body language is unreadable, but not his ears.

Ear Flicks - Curious

Pinned Ears - Angry or Scared

Half-Pinned Ears - Embarrassed

Ear Swivels - Alert

-----_-----

“ You want a story to tell? You gotta go through hell. I had to. It's the only way I'd be the dog I am today. “

VERY LONG

In late winter a large female German Shepard, Sophie, gave birth to three small pups, all seeming to share her and their father, Charles’ features. Looking down on the three squirming pups. Akita, the smallest, Corbin, the middle, and Salvador, the largest. Life wasn't quiet for the V.U.L.C.E.R. dogs, and nor was it easy, but it was good. As the pups grew, so did their personalities! Akita was much like her mother, kind and sweet. She was a gentle soul who cared for even the smallest of life. She couldn't hurt a fly even if she was forced to. Corbin was much like his father, a burly, tough-love male. He was almost arrogant with his beliefs. One thing was true, he loved sparring with his larger brother. Salvador was the most annoying of the three. He always tried to slip out of sight when he could, liked starting fights, and enjoyed making friends. Testing boundaries was fun! This lasted a long time, so long that maybe he'd learn to regret it.

Trainee:

At four months old, Salvador and his siblings became first grade trainees. While Akita and Corbin were good students, Sal was effectively a nightmare. He barely listened, asked stupid questions, and really never participated. He was interruptive and really only interested in eliciting a reaction from other dogs. This personality got him favored by some dogs and hated by others. Corbin used to tell him he was destined for being nothing more than a maintenance worker, if that. Akita would say that there was something still left there. Corbin wasn't so sure. He only got louder and more annoying. Surprisingly, despite his lack of ever paying attention, Sal passed his tests to move on with his siblings.

At 10 months old, the three became second grade trainees. The childlike lessons dropped and Salvador found himself falling behind. The siblings weren't tight knit, but close enough to talk. Akita expressed her interest in becoming a medic. She wanted to make a difference, to help others heal! It was her biggest dream. Corbin said he wanted to become a Sentinel, as he thought it'd fit him. He was confidential enough. Sal said he wanted to be a Secretary, but through his teeth, Corbin told him to aim lower. He'd never be enough for that role anyway. So, Sal said Sentinel also. “Aim lower than that.” he was told once again. “Try maintenance worker. Try grunt.”, he told him. But Sal would show him! Despite how he continued to act, a part of him was trying.

At 14 months, Sophie and Charles decided they'd take the young pups out of the bunker for a small outing. This was in celebration of the halfway mark from becoming real members of the pack! The day was new and warm. The dogs padded out, finding a place not far from the bunker to lay down. It was inevitable that Sal grew bored listening to them sit and talk about jobs and the future. So, he stood up and slipped off, heading out further away alone. The good grace didn't last. On his own, Sal heard movement, soft words, growling. His ears shot up and his head around. He turned on his paws and headed back to his family, even paced. He didn't want to scare them. For the first time in his life, Salvador was scared too. He tried not to keep looking around so as to not gather attention to himself. Just as he'd let his nerves rest and rejoin the conversation, a voice cracked across the air, shattering comfort.

“Blade, fucking go!” A harsh order before 12 quick pawsteps ripped out of the shadows towards the family. Salvador slipped on his paws, the furthest away from the attackers. He wasn't a fighter, less so than his sister, so he hid. There were three. And they weren't dogs, they were wolves. Pure breeds. The largest was a blue-gray and white wolf, second largest was a pure black, and the last was brown and gray. His ears pinned watching the two go for his parents, and the largest for his siblings. Tears stung his eyes, watching them tear his family apart. Listening to the screams, watching the bloodshed. Akita fell first, and Corbin tried to do what he could. His mother fell second. Charles was filled with rage that instant, and the brown and black wolf fell third. Corbin had passed sometime around then, and the wolf looked as horrified as Sal. He noticed a jagged scar on the wolf's forehead. He watched the black wolf's jaws around his father's throat. His paws carried him faster than he knew he could go. Despite his terror, the young pup launched at the wolf. A clash of teeth, fur, and blood. Maybe there were words, Salvador didn't hear them. The fight seemed like it lasted forever, and somehow, no time at all. Suddenly the wolf yelled something and ripped off, the other wolf in tow. He could only stand and watch where they ran off. He finally turned away, only to be met with the massacre. In silence, he stood and just stared. Slowly, he moved to a sit, completely wordless.

Stupid dog. Stupid stupid dog. He was careless! He caused this! He loved them and he killed them!

For hours he just sat there. Finally, he stood to his feet and ripped his eyes away, slowly walking over to his father. He dropped his head, nudging the male's cheek. Part of him was hoping this was a terrible nightmare. It wasn't. He reached down and unclipped the collar from his father and quietly made his way back to the bunker. Telling the sentinels they were dead was hard. Moving on was harder. Dogs noticed he wasn't happy anymore, didn't joke, and seemed to give everyone a dead-eyed stare. At least, though, he focused more on his work, eventually gaining the job he wanted. He wanted, right?

He didn't realize how much he missed them until they were all gone. Everyone. There wasn't a day he didn't think about it. Not a day he didn't fault himself. He realized, though, that it wasn't him who ever wanted it. His brother deserved to live, even if it was just through him. But he could never be as kind as Akita, or his mother. He didn't make that oh-so-important vow yet. Yet. Pawsteps through life were hard. Beating himself down for 6 long moons took a toll on him. He rarely ever left the bunker, unless his job required it. He was quiet and hard, but he was diligent. Still, he didn't trust himself to love again, for fear he'd hurt another. That was for all those six moons. Up until her.

On a little bit of downtime he had, a beautiful white German Shepard approached him. She was gentle, in her voice, and her personality. She was gentle with him, with his body and his heart. Somehow, even to those who didn't deserve it, she was unendingly kind. He viewed himself as one of those who didn't. Her name was Halo. Despite the hardness of his heart, the angel broke though. She helped him to open up again, to be kind. She brought out some of the pup-like behaviors he'd shut down because of what he did. They became fast mates within two moons, just clicking that hard. Soon enough, Halo was pregnant, and Sal was set on caring for her. He brought her prey, and anything else she could need. Three pups were born, a boy and two girls. They called them Charlie, Echo, and Gaia. And for the next three moons, life was bliss. Charlie was a lot like him in his youth, Echo like his mother, and Gaia like Akita. Seeing his family in these pups was odd, but almost comforting.

Personalities didn't change much as the pups grew, from what he observed. They, though, were much closer than Sal with his siblings. Watching them was beautiful. Three moons old now, and their father was on a usual mission, get food and return to his small family. He returned with rabbits in his jaws, three of them. One for him, one for Halo, and one for the pups. They ate happily. As the food settled in their stomachs, it was clear something was off. Simply, over the next day, all five grew ill, terribly so. Salvador took his family to the medics, and they did as they could. His three little pups didn't have the strength to make it through the sickness. Halo was going strong until the pups died at her belly. Her body shut down due to the heartbreak, along with sickness.

He lost her. He lost his children. Once again, he lost everyone he'd given his heart to. They were dead once again, and once again it was his fault. Maybe… maybe if he didn't love anymore, then he wouldn't hurt anyone else anymore. If he forgot empathy, he wouldn't, couldn't hurt anyone again. With his body curled around the body of his beloved mate, he vowed to never love again. To never open his heart again. Yet still, he stayed there until her body grew cold.

Time passed as it did, wasn't slow, wasn't fast. It just passed. He called it easier, living without love. He'd begun to dedicate every bit of his life to his work, believing that's what he had been missing this whole time. He'd regressed into this cold, distant dog. He lost all his humor and care for the idea this would help. A hardened, dedicated worker he was. And it would come of note, being brought up by the dog who watched over him after his parents death. It was brought up to him, and he accepted without thinking.

Council Member:

He hasn't changed much with the shift to a harder job and more duties. He's so buried in work that it didn't affect him. He's just generally more irritable than he used to be, and only accepts being called Salvador or Councillor Salvador. Any nicknames will only annoy him. He is no longer that childlike pup. Sometimes, still, he can't help but wonder if his family would at all be proud of him.

Who cares, these walls weren't built to break.