Requested by Max_TheBariSax on Wattpad

It was a special time of year when the seasons and holidays began to come around. Birthdays were celebrated, Christmas was embraced with joy, and Valentine's Day was revered for bringing out the shines of love in even the coldest of individuals. As Summer transitioned into Fall, the trees bloomed into warm shades of orange, yellow, and red, and so came in a particular holiday that was gleefully anticipated: Halloween.

The residents of Adventure Bay adored the frightful season almost as much as they loved Christmas, as reflected in how they decorated the town. All throughout the streets, in addition to the orange leaves dancing in the wind and sprinkling along the sidewalk, plastic skeletons and witches were set up in public parks. A vast array of vibrant pumpkins lined the base of fences, and a large amount was piled up in front of city hall. Toilet paper was tossed over trees and bushes, courtesy of the mayor herself, thankfully not a donation by juvenile delinquents. The cold air of Fall did nothing but increase the festivities even more, as bundles of hay were used to create stalls for buying hot chocolate and warm refreshments.

The Paw Patrol was buzzing with excitement. It was a little past noon on October 31st, mere hours before the trick-or-treating began. Chase and Marshall were outside helping Ryder set up decorations in the clearing. While the pups were free to run amok and enjoy the holiday, Ryder was staying behind in the tower to hand out candy.

"I'm gonna hit every house in town!" Rubble bounced out, carrying a large orange bag in his mouth. His entire body was crudely wrapped in toilet paper, as the Bulldog hastily threw together a mummy costume so he could get right to the candy collection, "I'm gonna get lollipops, and gumdrops, and Tootsie Rolls, and chocolate!" He went on and on, listing off every kind of candy he passed by in stores.

"You're a dog, you can't have chocolate," Ryder said simply, standing on his toes as he tried to hook streamers up on the wall.

"Oh," the mummy blinked, "I'll just not eat the chocolate then,"

Chase chuckled, pushing over a pumpkin with his head, "doesn't that eliminate most candies?" He grunted, finding difficulty to push the gourd, and deciding instead to push with his paws, "you're gonna end up with a lot less than what you actually get."

"Whatever, I'll make it work," Rubble waved off, taking the holiday very seriously, "anyway, what's your costume, even?" He pointed at the Shepherd, half-laughing, "that looks like your normal uniform, but darker."

The Shepherd fluffed out his fur a little, standing tall with pride, "I'll have you know, this is a SWAT Uniform," he grinned, "you can tell by the tactical vest I'm wearing, when I start getting candy I'm gonna put on the helmet."

"You swat flies?" Marshall peeked over a large pumpkin he was carving, his face was stained orange, giving him a whole new set of spots, "you're not gonna get a lot of flies with that baton." He pointed his paw at the fake plastic weapon Chase had clipped to his belt.

"What, no-" the tactical Shepherd shook his head, "I'm like a police officer, but so much cooler!" He smiled widely, trying to contain his excitement. Chase was a puppy at heart, "we get called in to stop riots, arrest the extra bad guys, and we beat people up!"

"Sounds scary," Rocky drew his ears back as he walked outside. He was dressed up as a zombie, donning a heavy amount of red and green paint to give his body the appeal of being mangled and undead. "Why would you want to dress as something that hurts people?"

"Hey, you're dressed as a zombie," Chase countered, "don't they eat people?"

"Well sure, but zombies aren't real," the painted mix said.

Rubble leaned in at Rocky's side, "that you know of," he snickered, deepening his voice.

The zombie rolled his eyes, pushing the mummy away with his paw, "I'm just saying, that's like me dressing up as the owner who abandoned you on the streets."

Chase physically recoiled at the mix's words, appalled by his past being brought up. He bristled his fur and flattened his ears, "no it isn't! And that is not cool! Well, nice dollar-store paint, you gross mess! Bet that's gonna stain your fur for weeks!"

"Hey!" Ryder turned around, "Chase, be nice!"

Marshall watched the two puppies growl at each other from afar, slightly drawing back behind his pumpkin in fear. His costume wasn't finished yet, he just needed to finish hallowing out the pumpkin. It was just the perfect size, he already cut the top off and put it aside, all that remained was emptying the melon and cutting holes for his arm and torso.

Soon, the sun fell below the horizon, darkening the sky and bringing a colder atmosphere. Chilling music played over the speakers in city hall, a witch's laugh was able to be heard every few minutes as animatronic skeletons waved to the trick-or-treaters. The Paw Patrol left the tower at the crack of dusk, running downtown with their candy bags in their teeth. Skye had dressed up as famous avian pilot Amelia Earhart, which ironically didn't look all that different from her usual outfit, just with a more rugged look with a browner color. Zuma wiggled himself into a shark costume, although he painted the eyes to look darker and give the body scars, telling everyone it was the shark from the movie "Jaws." Despite being more sluggish on a daily basis, Rubble somehow ran faster than anyone else, even outrunning Chase. He was long gone by the time they even reached the main street, and the rest of the pups began to split up.

Marshall cheerfully bounded along the street, dressed up in his pumpkin. The top of the melon sat on his head like a seasonal crown, the stem twisting in a loop that gave him the perfect look. The base of the pumpkin itself was the entire costume, as the Dalmation pushed his body through the large hole he carved out in the side, letting his head come through the open top as he passed his legs into two smaller holes at the bottom. He knew his outfit would start rotting eventually, and wasn't nearly as cool as the other things he was passing by. But he loved his pumpkin and looked forward to making his costume every year.

Even with his optimism, he couldn't deny the splendor of the other outfits he was spotting along his trip. As far as dog costumes could go, some were really able to pull through with creativity. He spotted several vampires and devils, witnessed a princess walking with a dragon, and watched in awe as a dog passed by wearing a Micheal Myers outfit.

The crowning jewel of them all was a large Great Dane, wearing a massive, pyramid-shaped helmet that sagged down over his face. A raggedy, grime-covered apron gripped onto his lower body, draping over his back legs. Using his tail, the dog was dragging a gigantic sword, painted to look rusty and nearly twice as long as he was. It was plastic, but looked hyper-realistic, making Marshall shiver and wonder what in the world he was dressed as.

Shaking his head, he looked to his side and realized his friends were gone. The Patrol had separated, all eager to out-candy one another, especially Chase and Rocky given their altercation. Wagging his tail, hyping himself up to be the best pumpkin he could possibly be, he took off for the first house.

The person's yard was decorated with tombstones, bloody wrappings covered the one lonely tree that sat in the middle of the grass. A plastic ghost was positioned behind one of the windows, peeking out. Two other dogs were approaching as Marshall joined them; a Labrador dressed as a dark Xenomorph from "Alien," and a Husky donning a worn, wilderness survival outfit that was likely meant to mirror someone from a movie.

Marshall joined the trio as they walked up to the homeowner's door, bouncing like a happy little pumpkin. They formed a line, sitting down on the welcome mat. The Lab glanced to his right, spotting Marshall. The Dalmation returned the look, giving a smile at the new dog in hopes of making a friend. The Lab, upper head obscured by a shiny, dark bulbous helmet, didn't return to the smile, "hiss!" the puppy snarled, baring his teeth and making Marshall flinch, "I have two mouths!"

The Dalmation blinked in surprise, then bend down to look in the dog's maw, "doesn't look like you do," he said in confusion.

"Yeah I do! I'm an alien!"

"But you aren't green," Marshall tilted his head.

The Lab showed visible agitation through his costume, "no, those are dumb, common aliens. I come from an egg that attaches to your face, and I explode out of your body!"

The Husky piped up as Marshall backed up, intimidated, "wait, how are we gonna reach the doorbell?" As puppies, they were only two to three feet tall, nowhere near as high to reach the doorbells that were right at a human's eye level.

"Let's just bark," the alien muttered, "that'll get their attention."

"Isn't barking kinda rude?" Marshall asked, shuffling his paws.

"Isn't your outfit kinda lame?" The Lab instantly fired back, and the Dalmation shut his mouth quickly.

"Let's just go to another house," the Husky turned around, already beginning to leave, eager to flush through more houses for treats.

The Husky expressed visible frustration as he too followed the dog out, whipping Marshall with his tail. The Dalmation suppressed a wince, trying not to show more vulnerability than he already had. Dejected, he hung his head, causing his pumpkin hat to slip over a little. Still holding his Halloween bag, although it was dragging slightly on the sidewalk, he made his way out of the yard.

"I'm not lame…" he mumbled to himself, flicking his eyes over as he passed by a cat dressed as Freddy Krueger. It was undoubtedly a much better costume, complete with the ripped red and black shirt, melted face paint, and the trademark hat. The cat wore a glove with plastic claws jutting out, and instantly Marshall wished he had chosen something better.

Even as he walked forward, he still kept his eyes on the passerby, not watching where he was going.

"Oof!" The Dalmation jolted, crashing straight into another dog. His impact victim could be heard grunting in surprise, his body being knocked to the ground as Marhsall fell back.

As he hit the sidewalk, Marshall quickly collected himself, "oh- oh I'm sorry, I'm-" he stumbled up, stuttering out several apologies as he looked toward the dog.

It was a Doberman, a species of dog known for its class and elegance. They were dressed as a knight, the most convincing ones he had ever seen, which seemed to perfectly match the high royalty these dogs were accustomed to. It was full metal armor, with purple outlines to give it a flashier appeal.

The knight rolled over on the ground, glaring up at Marshall, "Hey! Watch it, ya' bloke!" He had a thick British accent, snapping up at the Dalmation, "what are you, sloshed?"

Marshall cowered back as he tried to help him up, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-" he looked around fearfully, "I'm just… distracted." The knight raised an eyebrow, leering at the slightly smaller dog from under his helmet. Desperate to defuse the situation, Marshall turned to compliments, "Um… nice knight costume?"

The Doberman's face clicked into surprise, if not mild confusion. After blinking a few times, he laughed and puffed his chest out. "It's not a costume, pup, I'm a real knight."

Bewildered at the sight of a warrior, Marshall's eyes widened, "a real knight?"

"Yeah, and I'm-" he stopped, taking another look at the pumpkin. His eyes narrowed, leaning back a little as he recognized the Dalmation, "wait… do I know you?"

"Do you?" Marshall tilted his head, "I'm in the Paw Patrol, we're kinda famous around the country," he hastily explained, awkwardly scratching himself with his hind leg, "we got powers from a meteor, and we became merepups once!" He wagged his tail, recalling the memory.

The knight blinked as he processed the information, "so you are piss drunk," he rolled his eyes, "did you ever visit Barkingburg?"

"We did, we did!" Marshall bounced up and down, "we got knighted and saw dragons! It was so fun!"

"I thought you looked familiar," the Doberman came to the revelation, "do you recognize me at all?" He tilted his armored head, sitting back.

Marshall opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Swaying his head a little like he was trying to tune his brain, he held out a paw and waited for his memory to place the dog's name.

As an attempt to help, the knight stood in a heroic pose, standing firmly up and gazing off into the distance. Although the Dalmation was still drawing a blank, awkwardly staring at the dog before him.

"I was on a dragon, remember?" The knight dropped the pose, starting to get annoyed.

The pumpkin still aimlessly stared.

"I had a dragon's tooth around my neck?"

Still nothing. Fallen leaves idly danced around them in the cold wind.

"Are you bloody daft?" He snarled.

"Apparently," Marshall giggled, sticking his tongue out a little.

The knight's eye twitched, taking every bit of effort to not slap the Dalmation puppy before him. He let out a long sigh, and pulled out the last piece of information he was purposefully withholding, "... I was the disgraced knight, and my pup pack never worked properly?"

"Oh!" The Dalmation beamed, "Clue! I was wondering-"

"Claw."

"Claw, right right, right," Marshall nodded, correcting himself, "what are you doing in Adventure Bay?" He smiled warmly, wagging his tail at the mutual friend.

Looking to the side, Claw watched the trick-or-treaters for a moment, noting their costumes, "it's the only day a year I can show up in full armor, and no one says anything."

The pumpkin looked him up and down, admiring his battle armor again, "because they think it's a costu-"

"Because they think it's a costume." Claw bristled as he finished the sentence, getting further annoyed by the dense Dalmation, "are you going to keep annoying me?"

"Sorry," the pumpkin hung his head, "are you getting candy too?"

"Candy?" the larger dog repeated, then laughed, waving his paw, "Nah, don't eat that rubbish. Stuff's bad for you, innit?"

Now it was Marshall's turn to be annoyed, "look, I already had someone call me lame, if you're going to be that way too I'm walking away."

"Relax, I'm just poking ya," the Doberman rolled his eyes, "anyway, what's lame about a cute lil' pumpkin?"

"I don't know, it was him," Marshall turned around, pointing his paw at the alien-dressed Labrador who was just leaving another house, dragging a near-full bag of candy. Upon seeing him again, Marshall visibly grew uncomfortable, almost tearing up.

"That wanker, eh?" Claw came forward a little, narrowing his eyes at the alien.

The pumpkin blinked at his friend's wording, "wanker? What does that mean?"

"Oh, uh-" the knight tensed up, "... nothing. Don't say that out loud."

Marshall blinked, worried he had done something wrong before Claw spoke again.

"Just stay here and don't move."

The knight suddenly walked off, leaving the Dalmation alone. He obediently sat down and stayed put, knowing all good dogs followed orders. All he wanted was to fill his sad, empty Halloween bag with candy, giving it plump life with sugary snacks. He was burning moonlight just sitting on the sidewalk. A Retriever dressed in a blue princess outfit passed him by, looking at him oddly as she moved. Embarrassed, Marshall turned his head away.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that Claw returned, dragging a bag in his teeth.

"What was that?" Marshall stood up, "why did you make me sit here?"

Dodging the question, the knight placed the bag down and let it tip over. A massive amount of candy all spilled out at once, clearly several houses worth of a motherlode. "Happy uh… Halloween," Claw stood proud as the pumpkin gawked.

"Where did you," Marshall blinked in bewilderment, "where did you even get all this?"

"The Lab in the alien costume gave it to me, said he wanted to apologize."

The pumpkin beamed, "really?!" He was amazed that the Labrador was actually feeling apologetic, and quickly made a mental note to invite him for a meal in the future.

"I asked him nicely," Claw grinned, a glimmer of malice in his eyes, "it's all yours, take it."

"You asked him?" Marshall was already beginning to rake the candy into his bag, "but I thought you said he wanted to apologize?"

"... just take it."

Endeared by Claw's incredible ability to produce candy, Marshall was eager to return the favor. No matter how many times the knight tried to wave it off and leave, the pumpkin would speed up in front of him and stand in his way. For all he knew, a good knight deserved a reward for being of assistance, and Marshall demanded Claw accompany him so he could share candy later. Despite initially hating the sweets, Claw sighed and nodded, knowing there was no way to shake the Dalmation. No one saw the bruised, beaten Labrador that had been thrown into a tree, his alien costume ripped apart.

"Trick or treat!" Marshall bounced in the air, standing on the welcome mat of a front door.

The old woman before him beamed, overjoyed at the adorable sight of a dog wearing a pumpkin. She gave a wrinkled smile with a slow chuckle, bringing her hands to her cheek as she basked in the beloved sight. Turning to fetch her candy bowl, Marshall's eyes brightened as he wagged his tail in anticipation. Claw was sitting a couple of feet away, planting himself on the front walk without actually going to the door. Watching the ordeal, he looked to the side, wondering if he could take the opportunity to slip away.

"And what are you supposed to be?" The woman's gentle old voice drifted over the yard.

"Hm?" Claw snapped to attention, flinging his ears up as the woman addressed him, "oh… uh," he stammered, suddenly feeling hot in his armor, "I… uh,"

The elderly resident stood patiently, carrying her little bowl of wrapped sweets. Blinking as his voice left him, Claw flicked his gaze over to Marshall, who was also smiling at him and holding his paw out.

"I'm… a," he flattened his ears, now cooking inside his chest plate, "I'm a knight."

"Oh!" The woman gasped, "what a noble little knight," smiling as if she was generously offering her home to a wounded soldier, she reached into the bowl and picked up a large lollipop, a lovely swirl of purple and red. Stepping forward a little, she reached out to hand the candy to him.

Uncomfortable, Claw had a sudden urge to flee, something he was more than accustomed to doing back in Barkingburg. The elder was giving him a gift, however, and he knew there was nothing more disrespectful than refusing a gift. His knowledge of nobility was helping his anxiety, however.

Awkwardly walking up, the knight tucked his front paws in, and stood up on his back legs. He hobbled for a moment before gently grabbing the candy from the woman's hand, lowering himself back down. "Uh… cheers," he made a small salute with his paw, forcing his tail to wag to sell the appearance.

"Oh you're so welcome," the woman gushed like she was about to cry, and suddenly held her hand out with a soft open palm. Claw immediately flinched and shut his eyes, flattening his ears as he lowered himself like he was bracing for an attack. It was odd and new, feeling the woman's hand lovingly pat his head. "Happy Halloween, little dears." She turned around and walked back into her home, closing the door behind her. The knight opened his eyes, spotting Marshall watching him with a confused expression. He quickly straightened himself, turning his head away in shame.

"Phewh," Claw spit out the lollipop at Marshall's paws, "you can have it."

"Oh, okay!" The pumpkin joyfully picked it up, "not used to being petted, huh?"

His companion was already leaving the yard, "no, I am not. Who's that old bird anyway?"

Marshall frowned at his friend's wording, "that 'old bird' is Mrs. Grenwillow."

"Heh," Claw laughed as he walked back onto the sidewalk, "there's a weird crazy coot in every town, I suppose."

"Her husband died five years ago," the pumpkin stated blankly.

Stopping in his tracks, Claw froze on the spot, a sinking feeling hitting him.

"And she has no kids," Marshall came to his side, carrying a tone of agitation, "she's all alone in there. She's really nice and makes us cookies sometimes."

"Oh," the knight winced, "I feel bad now."

"You should."

As they walked in silence, Claw looked back at the elderly woman's yard. It was slightly grown over, as the poor lady lacked the physical strength to keep it clean, let alone the money to hire someone. Feeling a massive wave of regret, the knight spotted a discarded plastic bottle sitting in her yard. It was no doubt thrown away by some careless individual, leaving little regard for a poor elderly individual that couldn't even bend down to pick something up. Sighing to himself, Claw briefly left Marshall's side and returned to Mrs. Grenwillow's front lawn. He walked over to the bottle and picked it up in his teeth, carrying it out of her property. Walking up to the metal trashcans placed by the curb, Claw flicked his head and tossed the bottle in, seeking to pay off his new debt for insulting the widow.

Turning back to Marshall, he spotted the pumpkin talking to a blond mixed breed dressed as a vampire.

"Dude, your costume smells," the mix retorted, drawing back, "seriously, I can smell the rotting pumpkin."

"Jeez, sorry," the Dalmation frowned, and the mix quickly spotted the bag he was carrying.

"You are an insult to all five of my senses," he hissed, "give me your candy."

"What?" Marshall flinched, looking up in surprise, "I… no, I worked hard for this,"

"Yeah, and I'm working hard to steal it," the vampire started to approach him, "candy is like gold in this holiday, now hand it-"

He was cut off as Claw suddenly walked up to Marshall's side, staring straight into the mix's soul. Narrowing his eyes, the Doberman made not a sound but merely bared his teeth, flashing the glistening fangs of a disgraced knight. The vampire almost immediately recoiled, retracting his entire threat.

"Actually you know what," he chuckled nervously, "I was just kidding, uh… I'm gonna go,"

He attempted to grab his candy bag, but Claw swiftly placed his paw down, pinning it to the sidewalk. After a pathetic display of the mix trying to tug the bag free, he suddenly let go, flashed a weary smile, and ran away.

The Dalmation blinked, "what… just happened?"

"Not sure," the knight let his fur relax under the armor, "but hey, look more candy."

"Claw, you're supposed to get candy from houses, not steal it."

"Look at it this way, eh?" The Doberman placed his paw around the pumpkin's shoulders, "it's not stealing if you stole it from an arsehole. That's what we knights call justice."

"Weren't you disgraced though?" Marshall looked up into the blueish-green eyes of his companion, "I think you have a weird sense of justice."

"Eh, the concept of justice kinda depends on what government builds it," Claw shrugged, muttering to himself.

"What?" Marshall grimaced a little, not understanding his words.

"Let's just say my 'disgracing' was unfair, and not deserved."

The Dalmation giggled, pushing himself off the knight's hold, "did you say that back in Barkingburg, when Chase tried to arrest you?"

"He's a cop," the Doberman growled, "that bloody mug works for the government. They write whatever the hell they want, and Chase spends his life shoving it down people's throats."

"He works for the people, Claw," the pumpkin insisted, slightly stomping his paw, "can we not get political here? I want candy before we all go home."

"Wha- I got you two full bags, that's dead canny!"

"But the magic," Marshall pointed his paw at the houses, "is actually getting it the real way." He became slightly irritated upon seeing Claw roll his eyes, "look, if just want to get the night over with, you can leave," he huffed, "I can do this myself."

The Dalmation turned sharply and already began walking, much to Claw's imminent surprise, "what- hey!" He quickly ran after the pumpkin, flattening his ears, "I just don't see the bloody point! If you want candy, you've got it! Or why not just buy a bag from the store?"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Marshall whipped around, "because it's fun! This is supposed to be fun!" He frantically searched Claw's face for any sign of his understanding, but the knight carried only a blank expression.

"Do you really not understand?"

Claw looked down for a moment, then back at the Dalmation, "I guess not."

He didn't want it to come to this, Marshall didn't like putting his paw down in a way that he had to, but there was no other way. He couldn't let his favorite night be ruined.

"Then you can go and steal candy," he growled at the knight, "alone. I'm gonna go have fun and enjoy the holiday!"

"What- Marshall wait," Claw tried to say, but the Dalmation had already turned and was walking off, and he wasn't stopping. The Doberman reached a paw out, trying to say something, but it was clear he was truly alone now. Sighing sadly, he muttered to himself, "great," and turned around in the opposite direction.

-.-.-.-

It was close to midnight when trick-or-treating ended. Marshall's pumpkin was starting to get a little soggy, and the smell was hitting his nose. It was an unappetizing thought to realize that his fur may be stained orange for the following week. As he walked home he churned his brain around for any possible options for cleaning it out, either a long and expensive soak at Katie's pet parlor, or he'd just swallow his pride and be orange for the next week.

It was slightly difficult dragging his Halloween bag home. With all the houses he had hit, plus the two full bags Claw "donated" to him, he was pulling together a serious haul. Even Rubble was physically malfunctioning when he spotted Marshall's massive candy income. The Dalmation only shrugged and lied, saying he hit too many houses. Chase came home wasted, possibly from a party he attended, and tried to provoke Rocky into a shouting match. Zuma got between them and dragged the Shepherd off to his kennel, while Skye and Rubble shut themselves away to enjoy their candy haul.

The moon was high in the sky when Marshall walked outside, pushing along his worn pumpkin. He didn't want to throw it away, but he couldn't afford to keep a rotting gourd in his kennel.

"Always next year," he smiled to himself, searching for a good place in the grass to put it. He knew the pumpkin made perfect compost, ideal for feeding nutrients into the plants. Wedging it into a spot with slightly exposed dirt, Marshall turned back to hit the hay. An odd scent suddenly drifted before his nose, making him stop in his tracks.

Dogs were natural sniffers, animals blessed with highly accomplished noses for hunting down anything they could catch a scent of. In Marshall's case, he got the smell of a presence, an unfamiliar dog in the area. Raising an eyebrow, his mind instantly went to a past situation where dogs had wandered onto The Lookout grounds. As a firefighter, Marshall was certified to officially tell them to "piss off."

Grumbling, Marshall sniffed the air, following his nose as he walked down the hill. He was already practicing what he would say in his head, baring his teeth and few times to make sure he understood the motions. The scent led him through the bushes, and the Dalmation narrowed his eyes as he pushed his head through the twigs and leaves.

"Okay, whoever's out here," he started, pushing into the forest clearing, "you're not supposed-" he stopped when he saw him. "Claw?"

The knight whipped around in surprise, "oh… shit, I didn't think-"

"What you doing here?" Marshall said with a suspicious look, pulling his legs through the bushes as he approached the Doberman.

Claw's mind quickly dove into natural instincts, trying to jumpstart him into jumping to attention and facing the Dalmation with a confident poise. Only nothing happened, the knight merely sighed, letting his head hang down as his paws dragged in the dirt. He didn't feel strong or mighty anymore, and he couldn't place why.

"What are you doing here?" the firefighter repeated, approaching the disgraced warrior.

He gave a small shrug, "I wanted to apologize," it was obvious getting the sentence out was physically painful.

"Oh," Marshall blinked, "it… it's fine."

"Did I ruin anything?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Because that's what I'm good at," Claw sighed, lowering his ears, "ruining shit. Even with a bloody dragon at my command I still fall on my rear end," he scoffed, "just in time for your friends to run in and humiliate me."

"We're not trying to humiliate you," Marshall insisted as he walked to his side, "you're the one who steals things and causes chaos."

"They deserve it, they disgraced me, after all," he kicked a little dirt to the side, "the princess's entire royalty is corrupt."

"Claw, I'm not going to listen to this,"

"It's true," he said, looking to the Dalmation, "I… I don't know how it's true, but my gut tells me that it is. It has to be."

The knight suddenly got up, walking in circles as he bristled in arrogance.

"I think you…" Marshall said, but hesitated as Claw instantly snapped his gaze to him, "I think you need a break, maybe?"

"A break?"

"Yeah like, go find your own thing," he tried to offer, "forget Barkingburg, why not go find that actually makes you happy?"

"What makes me happy is being a royal knight!" He lashed, his voice breaking ever so slightly, "it's what I was always meant to do, it's my…" he trailed off, "it's my purpose. What good am I if I can't even achieve that?"

Feeling remorse, Marshall got up and walked to him, moving slowly as if any sudden move would startle the Doberman. In a soft, wordless action, he placed his small paw atop of Claw's own, a small gesture in an attempt to comfort him.

"Why don't you try to be something else?" He asked, trying to be helpful.

"No, I have to be a knight,"

"Why though?"

Claw looked at him for a long moment before pulling a sour face, "you wouldn't understand." He shook his head and began walking off.

"I- I might!" Marshall followed him, "you don't know what I know."

The Doberman didn't want to say anything at first, his natural arrogance still trying to bolt his own thoughts within his armor. Like his own outfit, he took such great effort to polish and perfect its outer sheen, that its interior was nothing but scratched metal and hastily stitched fabric. He always told himself to never remove the armor in front of others, never drop the mask to his own suffering, especially to the Paw Patrol. However, it was only Marshall here now, a dog actively trying to be kind to him.

Fighting through the great pain of speaking openly, he turned back to Marshall and stuck his paw out, "you can tell anyone about this, promise?"

"Promise." The Dalmation smiled and stood tall, putting his paw over his chest. It was his joyous response that irritated Claw even more, mainly because he had no idea why he was making him promise to begin with. If it was natural to have feelings and emotions, then why was he feeling so ashamed to have them?

The knight sat down, and after a few seconds of contemplation he reached up to the sides of his face. As Marshall watched silently, Claw undid the clasps on his helmet and removed it, pushing it off and exposing his bare head. It was somewhat liberating to feel the cold night brush through his fur and ears, yet fearful as he had never done it in front of someone else before, and there was a good reason why.

"Claw," Marshall could be heard gasping in surprise, as the Dalmation stepped back a little, "what happened to you?"

Removing his helmet didn't just allow the air to finally weave through his black fur, but also exposed two, hairless red scars that tore into his head. It looked like an animal had attacked him, raking its claws over the Doberman.

"My dad," Claw confessed, somewhat collapsing into the grass, "he was captain of the royal guard in Barkingburg."

"I've never seen him before," Marshall tried to think back to his experiences in the regal land.

"You wouldn't have," the knight shrugged, "he died two years ago, crazy sod went out to give the princess the greatest gift of all: a dragon's head on a platter."

The Dalmation winced at the story, also lowering himself down on his stomach for a more comfortable position, "jeez, he sounds intense."

"Growing up, all I knew was swords and armor," Claw mirrored the position, settling down as well, "he never let me do anything but train, just kept pushing and pushing me to the limit. Hell, I couldn't even walk in a full set of armor at the age he started me." He sighed, remembering what it was like to be an infant, struggling to hold up the metal helmet as his father snapped at him. Anytime Claw failed in training, his father would strike him. He had scars along his sides and back from the times he had been lashed, but he wasn't ready to show that just yet.

Marshall was horrified, "I… I'm sorry," he kneaded his spotted paws into the ground.

"I guess when he died, I felt compelled to be his successor, y'know?" Claw said, gazing off into the night sky, almost as if he was trying to see his father among the stars, "it's all he ever trained me to be, so what else is there? And when I got disgraced, it…" he trailed off, flexing his claws as if the very thought was stabbing him in anger.

"Claw," the firefighter tried to find the right words, "you don't… have to be your father."

The words cut into the Doberman deeper than any sword plunged into his chest could've gone. Perhaps the pen was mightier than the sword after all because the blockade over his own emotions had been completely ruptured.

"No- I," he tried to say, voice breaking as tears flooded his eyes, "I have to be, I have to, it's all I know it's all I'll ever know it's-" he fought to keep it all in, but everything was breaking out at once, "what am I if I can't even be what I am?"

In the midst of his sobbing, he felt a warm paw press against his, "you're Claw," Marshall said, smiling gently before it fell into a frown, "I'm sorry you had to go through that." He sighed, looking to the ground for a moment, "I've never seen my dad before, Ryder always said he found me stumbling on the streets."

Wiping his eyes, Claw felt a pang of shame for crying about his intense father, not realizing that Marshall didn't have a dad to begin with. "I'm sorry," he lowered his head, "I'm gonna go."

"Are you sure?" The smaller dog came to his side, "it's dangerous to travel in the night, you could crash with me."

The Doberman was taken aback, "you? You have your own place?"

"We all have our own kennels, yeah," Marshall nodded, "don't you always have a place to come home to?"

Claw looked to the side, wincing as he quickly lied, "yeah yeah, I have uh… I have a flat to myself, sure…" he knew full well he had no such place. The Doberman was a drifter, always moving from one place to the other with nowhere to truly call home.

"Look you don't have to do that," he wiped his eyes, making sure his emotional episode was over, "I've already done enough tonight, you probably don't want me-"

He was cut off as Marshall closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around the Doberman and hugging him tightly. Claw nearly flinched from the contact, as the only touch he ever knew inflicted pain, but hurt was the furthest thing from what Marshall was trying to give him. The Dalmation knew he couldn't just fix Claw's problems, it didn't work like that, he needed a lot more than just words to truly get through what had scarred him. With the kindness in his heart, Marshall held him tightly, hoping he could make it all hurt just a little less.

"You're a good dog, Claw," he said into the Doberman's neck, "even if you don't feel like it. I know everything sucks, but," he pulled away gently, gazing into the knight's eyes, "you can always talk to me."

Claw was genuinely confused and bewildered about why someone would want to be nice to him. In Barkingburg everyone held themselves in high regard, parading around their money and acting like snobs. Out of hatred for the community and being disgraced, Claw turned to petty thievery and causing trouble. If no one loved him, then no one deserved his loyalty, and yet here Marshall treated him like he was the best dog in his world. Despite the cold air of the night, he was unexpectedly feeling a lot warmer.

He reached around his Dalmation and pulled him close, snuggling tight with the one dog in the world who cared about him. Marshall couldn't understand his own feelings in the moment, but he suddenly found himself desiring more, a heated urge as he nuzzled his face into his fur.

"My big, strong knight," he muttered.

"What?" Claw raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing!" He instantly withdrew the statement, blushing a bright red. His white fur made his flustered mess extra visible with no possible way of hiding it. Claw caught onto it almost immediately, leading a blush to crawl across his own face. As much as he wanted to suddenly push off the smaller dog, a feeling was coming over him. He decided to suppress it now, but he felt the need to return to it in the future. It never hurt to try new things.

"Happy Halloween, Marshall," Claw cradled the Dalmation with his free paw, holding him steady as he gave him an affectionate lick on the nose.

The firefighter wiggled happily under the gesture, then forced out a joke, "Happy Halloween you loveable sod."

His partner blinked, unsure whether to be offended or laugh, "I don't think you know what that word means," he quickly laughed it off, hugging Marshall tightly.

As the rest of the Paw Patrol slept away, Marshall and Claw shared their own moment under the stars. The Dalmation feared the others wouldn't take too kindly to the Doberman being in their midst, especially Chase. He'd have to sneak away when he could, and he was already making plans in his head to visit Barkingburg in secret. Claw had carried around scars under his armor for as long as he could remember, fearful that vulnerability would hurt him even more. Marshall wasn't like that though, and now he was starting to feel something he hadn't felt in years. The warm, comforting feeling of love.