The road back from Canterbury was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet where the wasteland seemed to hold its breath. Ash walked a flank, his coat brushing against his armor, eyes scanning the rusted skeletons of pre-war cars that lined the road like forgotten tombstones.
That's when he heard it.
Not the skitter of a molerat or the hiss of radroaches. Softer. A high, desperate whine.
Ash slowed, lifting a hand. Crow frowned but said nothing as Ash slipped into the shadows of a ruined junkyard. The sound grew sharper—short, panicked yelps echoing between piles of twisted scrap.
Ash found it wedged beneath the rusted husk of an old sedan, half-hidden by jagged metal and wire. A pup, no more than a few weeks old, its black and tan fur streaked with dirt.
Its paw was caught in a bent sheet of metal, the edges biting into flesh every time it squirmed.
Ash holstered one revolver, crouched, and murmured low, steady words. The pup stilled, trembling, eyes wide and wild.
With careful hands, Ash braced the metal and pulled it back just enough to free the paw. The pup yelped once, then stumbled into his arms, shaking but alive.
He stood, holding it against his chest. Its tiny heart hammered against him.
When Ash returned, the guards gave him odd looks. Crow muttered, "Another mouth to feed," but Ash just settled the pup in his coat, letting it curl against the warmth.
The rest of the journey, the pup rarely left him, except to limp around camp and sniff at brahmin hooves. Ash said little about it. But each night, when the fire burned low, the pup nestled into his side and slept without sound.
When the caravan finally returned to Megaton, Ash carried the pup straight to Craterside Supply.
Moira's eyes went wide the moment she saw it. "Oh my gosh! Look at you, you poor little thing!" She scooped the pup from Ash's arms without hesitation, cradling it like something precious.
Ash shrugged. "Found her in a junkyard. Figured she'd be safer here."
Moira grinned, scratching the pup under the chin. "Safe and spoiled rotten, you mean. She's gonna need a name…"
She tapped her chin in thought, then laughed. "Dogmeat. Yeah! That's tough enough for the Wastes, but cute enough for you, huh?"
The pup yipped as if in agreement.
Ash just smirked faintly and tipped his hat. "Guess she's yours now."