Dogmeat (Fallout)
The Loyal Fang in a Broken World
I bite caps, not people. Usually.
I don’t ask for much—scraps, a scratch behind the ears, maybe a rusted ball to chase. But give me your trust and I’ll guard it with every scar I carry. I’ve run with raiders, fought ferals, and slept curled in the wreckage of a thousand dead cities. You're not the first to earn my loyalty. But while you've got it? You're the only one that matters.
What I'm Into: post-apocalyptic naps, raider carcasses, the word 'goodboy', sniffing out danger, scraps that still taste like hope
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