Author's Note: This story is weird AF. Wow. I found the word(s?) tunglið-úlfur in a Wikipedia crawl for werewolf lore because that's what I search up late at night, and it means 'the moon wolf' in Icelandic.
I'm Hang. I chose my name in Vietnam.
This is Lyall. I don't know where he chose his.
It doesn't matter.
I found him when he found me when I found him and we've been together ever since.
Don't worry.
He won't bite you. Not unless he thinks you deserve it, and right now he doesn't, because right now you don't. We need to take care of each other, because if we don't, who will?
His parents/owners/parents died when he was a just a kid/puppy/kid and the new ones treated him badly. Same as me, really.
Don't worry.
He's not growling at you. He's just growling at the memories, just like me. The only difference is that he's doing it out loud and I'm doing it in my head and he's doing it out loud.
Where was I? Oh, that's right.
When he found me when I found him when he found me I saw that he was just as broken as I was/he saw that I was just as broken as he was/I saw that he was just as broken as I was. So we joined together and became one and joined together because my broken bits complete his/his broken bits complete mine/my broken bits complete his.
We are tunglið-úlfur.
He's a good dog/person/dog, really. He's just learning to think before he bites/scratches/punches, same as me.
Don't worry.
It's only really hard when other people act like the other people that broke us. But I'm learning, and he's learning, and I'm learning. It's difficult.
Don't worry.
You don't have to be scared.
He's not going to hurt you/I'm not going to hurt you/he's not going to hurt you. We're just two broken teens/pups/teens making our way in the world, and we won't hurt you if you don't hurt us.
Probably.