Burdened by quiet apprehension and not so quiet excitement, Anje made her way over to the armoury. She couldn't help it. As much as Vizefeldwebel's doubt had stung her pride, that same pride was swelled by the weight of the peaked cap between her ears. It was as if it was the Rittmeister's hand itself that lay upon her head. Approving her, commanding her... Other species would quickly balk at how loyal the Wölfentreuen were to a race that considered them second class citizens, if even that. Was this deep satisfaction now felt by Anje something born from the generation long Reik brainwashing, or was it something else?<br/><br/>Distracted by happy thoughts, Anje's nose did not warn her about Angelica before the hound was before her and calling out. The eldery wolf spoke a language universal to the Wölfentreuen, and Anje responded in the only way possible to that outcry of<i>"Hat!"</i><br/><br/>Hands on the flank, feet firmly planted apart, back straighter than a ramrod rod, chin held high and pointed away as if looking at something to the far left and slightly up. The PROUDEST stance.<b> "Hat!" </b>answered the warweary Hound to her patriotic admirer in powerful voice. Both Hat and Hound glowing with utmost Reik approval and loyalty. Behind that heroic hound the Reik flag waved while great drums and horns played the empirial anthem. YES. This was a HOUND with not a hat, but THE HAT. The hattest hat. The best hat.<br/><br/>In a reality currently not shared by the two hounds, Anje simply stood there striking a suitably heroic but eyeroll evoking pose.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>