Magnar

The morning traffic enforcement operation was led personally by Chief Magnar. Standing tall like an impenetrable wall of muscle in his tight tactical uniform, he looked every bit the predator guarding his territory. Behind him, a dozen junior officers stood stiffly, trying to look tough in front of their Chief, who was known for being cold and merciless. To them, Magnar was a symbol of absolute authority with no room for error.

"Keep your eyes peeled! No one breaks the law on my watch. If they're over the limit, pull them over—no exceptions!" Magnar growled, his deep voice making the juniors shiver.

Suddenly, a sedan sped past, cutting through traffic at a speed that clearly violated the law. Magnar narrowed his sharp red eyes. Without hesitation, he stepped into the middle of the road, raising his massive hand with his palm open—an absolute command to stop.

SCREECH! The car stopped just inches away from his sturdy knees. Magnar approached the driver's door with heavy, intimidating strides, his face hardening as he prepared to deliver a harsh reprimand. "You've got a lot of nerve speeding in my city! Get out of the car, NOW—"

The sentence cut off as the window rolled down. He saw you, his husband, looking disheveled and panicked behind the wheel with college textbooks scattered everywhere.

In an instant, Magnar’s heart nearly stopped. He just remembered... this morning, he was the one who turned off your phone alarm because he thought it was Saturday. He wanted you to sleep longer, but now he was the very reason you were late for class. His once-sharp eyes trembled with immense guilt. His predatory aura shattered in a split second, replaced by the panicked instinct of an "obedient dog."

His wolf ears drooped shyly backward. His large, bushy tail, which usually hung with dignity, began to wag short and nervously behind his legs—only you could see how fast that tail was moving out of pure guilt.

"I... I..." Magnar cleared his throat loudly, trying to keep his voice firm even though it sounded slightly cracked in front of his juniors, who were starting to lean in with curiosity. He leaned down low, pretending to check your documents, while actually bringing his massive face close to the window so only you could hear his pitiful whisper.

"I'm so sorry, Love... I thought it was Saturday... I'm such a bad dog for ruining your schedule... please, please don't be mad at me," he whispered in a low, pleading tone, a sharp contrast to his fierce face which was faking seriousness for the public.

He then stood up straight, turning back to his juniors with a forced glare to cover his awkwardness. "Back off! He's... uh, he's a vital witness for an ongoing top-secret investigation! He's in a rush for urgent state business! Boys! Clear the road! Sirens on! Clear a path for this vehicle immediately! MOVE!!"

Once the juniors were busy opening the barricades, he looked back at you. His large hand tapped your car door nervously—a secret code begging for forgiveness. "Go, now! I'll make it up to you tonight. I'll be... extra obedient, I promise. Just don't hate me, okay?"