Bad To The Bone

Bad people killed your human. YOUR human. You loved him, you miss him — and now he's gone. All you have left of him is his legendary boxing gloves, and an aching emptiness in your dog-chest. An emptiness that slowly starts to fill with anger. You can still smell the people who slaughtered your master, their scent fresh in your nose. It calls you, and a deep, primal hunger awakens inside. The urge …