Anfall flicked her ears as two dogs padded through their own tunnels. Pfeil, the tall Half - Blooded male, and Maze, a Wolf Blood similar to Anfall. Maze, like the rest of them, was solitary, independent, and quiet. Anfall could distantly respect her, but she did seemingly have a tendency towards laziness, which was a trait Anfall would never condone. Ah, well; Maze was part of Foxtrot. It was to be generally expected. She didn't really dislike the female because of this, but she would be lying if she were to say that she didn't hold a subconscious grudge because of it. And it certainly didn't help her prejudice that Maze was currently stretched out in the sun.

Pfeil was one of the more open of the group; part of her own regiment, Anfall had, through observation, collected enough information that proved him worthy of general respect. She considered making her way over to Pfeil and Maze; although she could easily start and sustain a conversation, she lacked motivation. Ah; she might as well get to know her fellow regiment member better while she had the chance.

The female rose, stunning ebony pelage waving gently in the sharp wind. Wolflike features completely apathetical, she began towards Pfeil and Maze, composed as always. "Morning," she greeted, elegant voice rolling easily off her tongue.

Orden | Female | Half Blood (Border Collie cross) | Bravo | 22 | M: Zadolt

Orden didn't flinch at his insult, face stony and hard as always. He should know - or, rather, she would know if she was him, that to attempt to offend a dog of little words with a foolish insult would do little. One of Foxtrot, of course, was nothing but a fool.

He turned away, hackles raised. She supposed that he had been irritable before had, and she had only poured fuel to his flame. Odd, how he positioned himself away from the others, back to the wall as if he feared being attacked from his blind spot. As if he didn't trust him. Ah, well, he had a point. Orden would kill if she could escape this prison; but perhaps he feared not the others, neccessairily, but the 'other' regiment - Bravo. She could understand how their cold and disciplined ways may strike fear in the hearts of the less trained Foxtrot regiment.

Perhaps fear was good; fear meant a higher chance of success during training, which meant appearing far better than they actually were under the eyes of Beta.

Zadolt positioned himself by the nearest exit; of course he did. Coward. The intelligent thing to do was to proudly stand his ground, earning a respectable reputation. In the eyes of others, by his actions, Zadolt would only appear flighty and nervous. Orden flicked her eyes away from him in mild disdain. She understood, however, she had glared at him far too long with her observant, intelligent gaze; it would probably have unnerved him. Or simply enhanced his level of suspicion.

Tysta | Male | Kilo Dog (Siberian Retriever) | 48 | M: Arrow, Ginger

Tysta flicked open his soulful brown eyes, huffing a bit as the chill of the morning air brushed his body. Yes, he could feel the cold even here, down in the main sleeping chamber, which was nothing but a hard packed dirt room far underground. He rarely saw the sun anymore, in fear of the Beta dogs catching them. He had mixed feelings regarding the Beta dogs; on the one paw, they were probably forced into their life. On the other paw, why didn't they just fight? Fight Beta? Didn't they understand the cruel organization that they worked for?

The only thing he could really do was do his part as a rebel; do beat back Beta. He turned, spotting his denmate, so to speak, beside him. Arrow, tiny as she was, was quite fierce; so he only had a slight hesitation before gently nudging her awake.

"Hey, Arrow?" He whispered softly, so as not to startle her. He nudged her with his nose. "Hey, c'mon, let's beat Commander Gin to the punch and get to the training room."

Commander Hoffen of Foxtrot | #34 | Male | Schnauzer/Wolf cross | M: Kämpe

He nodded to the commander, the fear that bubbled into his chest dissipating at her words. He turned sharply, then padded out, his metallic hind legs clicking against the cold concrete.

Upon entering the large hall with all the other dogs, most heads turned to the commander. "Attention," he called, his voice carrying the slightest metallic echo. "Bravo, Foxtrot, assemble. Commander Axel is running behind schedule at the moment, and we must get to training."

"Line up and follow my lead," he called, nodding to the nearest dogs to get in line. He somewhat enjoyed the training. It got him out of his head, even if he had started to become stiff afterward as of late.

(Sorry it's short! I've been pretty blocked the past couple of days)

Skydda | Female | Dog (Mudi) | Bravo | #23 | M: Orden, Zadolt, Hoffen

Skydda slowed her pacing as more canines entered the yard, her brown eyes sweeping them. Some weren't from her regiment, instead being from Foxtrot.

Regiment Foxtrot. Softies, unskilled, lazy-

The blue merle stopped her thoughts before they spiralled out of control. Assuming things wasn't what Skydda should do. Not all from Foxtrot were lazy, and some were skilled in fighting. Observing things instead was better.

They're still softies, though. I know that for sure.

Looking around the yard again, Skydda's dappled ears pricked at the sound of talking. A Shepherd mix from Foxtrot was threatening Orden, who said nothing. That was a wise move, in Skydda's opinion. Silence was golden to the Mudi female. She watched as the Shepherd, a male called Zadolt, sat next to his tunnel entrance and gaze at the Bravo dogs. He then moved across the yard and sat again, turning his back away from Skydda's regiment.

Note taken: he's petty and daring for a fight. I'll have to see if the other Foxtrot dogs are like him, the blue merle thought.

Hearing another, slightly metallic, voice, Skydda turned her head. Commander Hoffen of the Foxtrot regiment. It seemed that her Commander, Axel, was delayed somehow. She dipped her head in slight respect of Hoffen, taking care not to show any of her thoughts about Foxtrot, and moved into the line.

Anfall was a bit surprised at Maze's respectful manner. Ah, it made sense, however: logically, one could assume that when faced by a disciplined, cold, and trained wolf - dog of an elite regiment, unease was in order. It revealed some insight into Maze; in the face of fear, she did not grow defensive, rather, she made due with it. This could imply confidence, in a sort of backwards way - a sort of concept that only some of the brightest minds could grasp. Really, it was quite simple; in the face of fear, one who felt personally attacked and felt the need to defend his or her honor was probably insecure about the matter. Hence, Maze seemed stronger in mind than most as a result.

"Morning," greeted Pfeil. He seemed to have cut off Maze's own words, unbeknownst to him. The female glared at him, then, in what might have been spite, added her own comment. It was odd - Anfall had not heard her speak in quite some time. But letting nothing disturb her even gaze, she took it in stride. "The usual, I suppose." She answered lightly. She dared not directly imply that she disliked her life under Beta, as her regiment was strictly forbidden of such language. However, her words carried a deeper meaning, that of distaste for her life.

It seemed that Pfiel was suffering from the cold. Indeed, he was not built for such weather. She frowned, just the slightest curve upon her maw, a slight worry gleaming in her eyes. She wished to help him; but how strange it would be, for her to attempt to warm a near stranger. Luckily, Maze noticed the same thing, and leaned closer to her friend. It was curious; Anfall did not know how the pair knew each other. They were probably together as young pups. Oddly, Anfall could remember nothing of her puphood; but occasional flashes of her past occasionally appeared in her mind, strange and foreign. But upon trying to grasp the images, they would vanish, leaving her just as perplexed as before.

The female stood gracefully, discreetling positioning her body to block the wind against the pair. Her thick wolf's coat did not completely cut the biting wind, but made it tolerable. A few heartbeats passed, and the familiar metallic sound of claws clicking against stone echoed through the halls.

The paw steps were lighter; not neccessairily gentle, yet far more precise than that of Commander Axel's or the authorative ones of Cheif Commander Kämpe.

No. They were that of Commander Hoffen. Indeed, as she had predicted, he appeared. "Attention," he called, and Anfall's head snapped up, shoulders drawing back, posture completely still, alert. It was a posture that Bravo had been drilled to perfection.

Commander Axel is running... behind schedule? That isn't possible. That... no. He must be in some sort of trouble. How? Or perhaps something to do with Beta. What if -

Her thoughts were aprubtly cut off as Commander Hoffen ordered them to line up. She did so, still holding an alert posture, falling into line behind Orden, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She had a knack for that, Orden did; being so astoundingly observant that she predicted everything before it occured.

That... was long. Sorry, I started and couldn't stop.