and when you wanted someone else, i withdrew [van crash]

Having been raised by a gentle hand, and then faced with a hand that not only hurt, but harmed and killed, Spectre was understandably nervous when the strangers approached his kennel. They didn't bother to restrain him; he didn't lash out, but hurried forward whenever a new door opened and soon found himself faced with the wide-eyed faces of his fellow victims in the chilly night.

The ride was uneventful. Dogmeat would cow anyone who vocalized their fears. He sat in silence, curled up on the floor of the transport, listening to the soft rumble of the road and the breathing of those around him. He was thankful for his... well, comrade's presence. It was calming, somehow, that he was still here with him.

Suddenly, the world went haywire and he was knocked violently against the side of his cage. The door's latch was knocked loose and his cage was chucked from the back. It broke upon impact, and he was thrown violently against the ground with a pop as his back-leg gave out from the strange angle it landed on. He rolled, paws over back, two more times until he came to a stop.

Dazed, he laid there for a few seconds to catch his breath. Then slowly, tenderly, he rolled onto his stomach and looked around. His vision cleared; the squalling noise of the trapped and frightened animals caused him to inhale sharply, steel his nerves, and rise to his feet. His gait was hobbling, but the movement helped him gain a bit of strength and he moved around the other side of the vehicle to look for other survivors.