Hakim
Name:
Hakim
→ Origin and meaning:
Hakim is a name of Arabic origin, which means "insightful" or "wise" in the language. Actually, a very fitting name for this guy.
Alias(es):
N/A
Gender:
Male(♂)
Breed and Species:
Canine;; Indian Pariah Dog Mix
Theme Song:
You Found Me by The Fray
Sexual Orientation:
If you wanted to say it, you could call Hakim gay. He's just that way. He doesn't like females, or even male dogs really. All his attention and devotion and love go for his master, Sharaf. And Sharaf is a man, a guy. Hakim loves him with all his life and heart, would do anything for Sharaf, and has chosen to spend his life with this man rather than anything else. These qualities, this undeniable affection Hakim has for his owner, gives a reason as to why it can be said that Hakim is gay
Relationship Status:
He isn't really in a relationship, but he's infatuated with his master Sharaf.
Family/Relatives/Friends:
Sharaf is his best friend, and Jess is pretty close up there.
Accessories:
Nope, he feels "constricted" when he has them.
Psychological Profile:
Hakim's personality almost revolves around his master, Sharaf.
It's a strange thing for most people to get a grasp on, the idea of one's thoughts and actions being based on another's, but Hakim has grown to be that way. He has lived all his life with Sharaf, and throughout that time, has found it hard to think for himself. Hakim relies on Sharaf to show him what is right and wrong. And yet, he still has his own way of doing things.
For the most part, Hakim can be distrusting and cold to others. He cares for nearly no one, bothering not with their issues and caring about himself and one other only. He dislikes confrontation, and is quick to snap at someone for it. The amount of approaching he does are mostly out of defense for his master. He doesn't want anyone to get in the way of him and Sharaf, and is fast to approach anyone else and tell them to stay away. He's not trying to start a fight with them, he's trying to keep himself the only one who is close to Sharaf and the only one who matters to him.Hakim doesn't like fighting, even though he has a somewhat aggressive personality, and he will avoid fights purposely despite almost starting them. He often walks around with almost nothing to make him happy, and doesn't want to be bothered about anything unless it's VERY important or edible.
When Sharaf is not around, Hakim is a completely different dog. He's lost, in a way, as if he has nothing to guide him, and to him, he doesn't.Hakim will seem hopeless without his master and friend, only hopeful that he will find him eventually. Even if Sharaf only disappears for a short time,Hakim dislikes it intensely. Especially when he cannot find his friend himself. He becomes moody and upset, and very quiet, refusing to eat for the longest of times.
Likes:
While Hakim has few likes in this world, those he does love he is passionate about and will always care for.
-Sharaf
Sharaf was Hakim's partner while he was being raised by the soldiers in Iraq. Hakim is passionate about Sharaf, considering him his alpha and best friend. He is very protective over this man, and will only ever listen to him.
-Pastirma
Pastirma is a part of Iraqi cuisine that Hakim finds particularly delightful. He adores the food, and will do a lot to gain it. This is the only thing that can get Hakim to listen to someone.
-Peacetime
While he was raised by soldier, Hakim does not enjoy war and fighting, and while he is hardened and wired for battle, he dislikes it greatly and instead really enjoys peacetime. He will do anything to stop a fight, unless he caused it.
Dislikes:
It's hard to discern Hakim's dislikes, and only a few, as with his likes, are actually known.
-Taking orders
Hakim hates taking orders unless they come from Sharaf. He does not enjoy being forced to do things.
-War
War bothers Hakim as much he enjoys peace. He does not like fighting, and prefers using combat only for defense, not to kill.
-"Accessories"
NEVER try putting a collar or a rope, or anything on Hakim. He freaks out. Even if you try to grab his scruff and pull him away, he still flips and tries to attack you. Seriously, just don't even try.
History/Background;
Hakim watched silently as the humans around him shoveled papers into shredders and fires, trying to demolish all the important documents. He lay under a table, eyes looking around him, rotating in their sockets and waiting for words. But no one said a thing. Hakim stood, and nudged his master and alpha hopefully, confused and lost. The man turned, Sharaf, and lay a hand on the dog's head. "لا تقلق. وسوف يكون على ما يرام. Do not worry. It will be fine". He promised. Hakim did not believe him.
All of a sudden everyone stopped. There were noises above them. American troops finding their way through the bunker towards them. The men sped up, shouting orders, trying to destroy everything before the troops arrived. And Hakim was in the middle of it, gazing with silent eyes, staying close to Sharaf. He knew nothing was fine. Everything was wrong, so wrong. The fires to destroy papers blazed out of control and were put out, and the shredders were not destroying quickly enough. Time passed slowly for the older dog, but before he knew what happened there was shouting and the door was being slammed into. The Americans had reached them.
"الحكيم، انتقل، والبقاء! البقاء هناك! Hakim, go, stay! Stay there!" Sharaf shouted at the dog, motioning underneath a table behind boxes. Hakim complied, watching his master with wide eyes in confusion. Boxes covered his vision, however, as he was hidden away. The door burst open, and Hakim remained still as voices shouted in unfamiliar languages, insisting, angry. There were footsteps, a gun went off, more shouting, some in Arabic and some in that strange tongue, marching, and then... Silence. Hakim listened carefully, his muscles tensed to the point of shaking. Minutes passed, five minutes, ten minutes... Still, nothing. The dog pulled himself out from under the table. There was no one there. No Americans, no Iraqis. No Sharaf.
Hakim became confused. Sharaf was always there, always nearby. He couldn't operate right without his master, and a desperate fear filled him. Living without his alpha and best friend. Hakim had known Sharaf since he was a puppy, and had bonded tightly with him. As long as Sharaf was alive, Hakim would find him and remain at his side. Hakim was determined, more so than he had ever been before. Sharaf might be in trouble, or dead. But it didn't matter. The dog would find him no matter what the price.
Hakim flowed out the door of the small room, papers scattering away as he took off. He knew how to navigate this place. It was easy. Passing through, he saw doors kicked open, papers scattered everywhere, shells from a gun, and some blood on the floor. Fearing it was Sharaf's, Hakimsped up, panting. Sharaf... Sharaf... That was the only thing on his mind. Finding his lost partner, saving him from whatever danger there happened to be.
Hakim was nearing the exit, when he hesitated, slowing down. Something was bothering his ears. A soft, barely audible, "blip". "Blip. Blip. Blip." Speeding up quite quickly. Recalling his time following Sharaf, Hakim realized what it was. A bomb. Clearly the Americans had no intention of leaving the bunker of papers behind. Hakim took off, as fast as he could, trying to escape. The bomb was nearing the end of it's thing, the blips coming together into one long noise. As he was through the exit, it exploded violently, destroying everything and sending fire blasting both down the halls and up them, straight at the dog trying to flee. Hakim was blown forward, rolling a ways before catching himself and running as best he could. But he had been burned. His eyes watered painfully, and, seeing figures that looked like humans, Hakim let out a pained cry, trying to get their attention. He fell unconscious shortly afterwards.
Everything hurt, a lot. Hakim's paw pads were sore, his head rang, and everything ached like crazy. He could barely open his eyes, and as he managed to, everything was different. Hakim was no longer in the desert, where he had been. He seemed to be in a room, possibly in a town or a room in a tent or something. It was hard to tell. His vision was blurry. As it slowly cleared up, more about the quarters he was currently inhabiting. It was small, for a room, with two beds running parallel to the wall on both sides of the room. He was laying in the center on a mat, with a few bandages covering apparent injuries on his legs and ribs. In front of him was a trunk, made of metal and probably containing weaponry or something. Behind, a door. And the door was left ajar. Doing his best to stand, Hakim made his way towards the door, a little wobbly on his legs. He was determined though, as perhaps Sharaf was nearby. These were not Iraqi housings though, the bed was a dark greenish-grey and the trunk was printed with a strange symbol. Hakim ignored this fact.
Limping carefully out of the room, Hakim heard an odd whistle, the sound that escaped Sharaf's own lips when he wanted the dog to come to him.Hakim moved as quickly as he could towards the noise, pausing once to catch his breath. He heard the whistle again, and pulled himself towards it, using extreme willpower to move his aching body. Rounding a corner on the dusty street, Hakim was face to face with the most unexpected thing he could have found. An American soldier, staring down at him, just as surprised. "Woah, where'd you come from!?" The soldier stated, taking a step back. This was definitely not Sharaf.
Hakim growled throatily, more surprised than anything else. He took several steps backwards, when more footsteps approached from behind. "I found him after that bunker exploded, he'd been caught in the blast. I thought he was cute, so I kept him." A womanly voice spoke to the first soldier. Hakim was very confused. This language was not his own, and therefore he did not recognize their words like he recognized the Iraqi's.
"He might belong to them though, Miller. If he is theirs, he might be happy to maim us as soon as love us" frowned the first soldier. Hakim heard Miller used with that name-strain, and figured the woman was called that. "It'll be fine." Miller replied. Hakim watched her carefully, and she reached down and gave him a pat on the head. Hakim did not like these people particularly. He wanted to be with Sharaf, but Sharaf was nowhere to be found. For the time being, Hakim was stuck with the Americans. He would find Sharaf eventually.
The thought never left his head.
Jess Miller was going about her usual day as a soldier. Waking up, getting dressed in uniform, goofing off at mess hall with the other troops... A regular morning for an American in Iraq. The only unusual thing about her was what followed her around. Hakim padded behind his newfound companion. It two weeks he had learned much of the English language, and had come to like this American female soldier. She was spunky, and clearly recognized throughout the rest of the humans. There had never been women in Hakim's life, mostly men, so this was a pleasant change for him. Hakim had become used to the daily schedule. It required lots of walking, which was fine now. But Hakim had not given up on his lost partner. He knew Sharaf was here somewhere. He sensed it. Otherwise, Hakim would have left this American camp long ago, no matter how much he enjoyed Jess's company.
"MILLER! You've got prison duty today!" A deep voice chuckled from behind Jess and Hakim. Hakim whipped around, with surprise. A tall, burly man stood by the wall. Miller's reply came short and quick. "Fine. I'm taking Jet with me." She grumbled. Hakim shook his head. Jet was the name Jess had given him when he had come into her life. He disliked the name, but he didn't do anything about it.
Miller began to head off, with Hakim in close follow. He had never heard of 'prison' before, it was a new English word for him. He figured he would learn soon enough, and happily treaded along behind. As they neared this prison, Hakim could tell that there was something odd about it. It was very dark in the building, and the mud brick house had once belonged to an Iraqi family at some point. Flattening his ears against his head, Hakimunwillingly stayed very near Jess as she entered the building, grabbing a gun from a rack nearby.
"Just watch them carefully Jet. If any of them even move, you're allowed to bite or something" Miller growled. Hakim looked at her, his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Looking back at the "prison", Hakim figured what it was. A place to hold those you are against. He was mortified with what he learned next. These men, against the wall and watching him with somewhat dead eyes, were all familiar. He could recognize each face. His body shivered hopefully. These were all men from the bunker. The bunker that Sharaf had been in.
Hakim quickly padded to the beginning of the "line" against the wall, then moved slowly down it, identifying faces. He could smell Sharaf in this room, not easily. It was mixed with multiple other scents, sweat and the such. Quivering with anticipation, Hakim searched down the row, hopeful to find his lost friend. Hakim went straight down the row, but saw not one man who looked anything like Sharaf. Many seemed to recognized him, and one even glared as the dog passed by. But Hakim had no care. His tenderness was for Sharaf only. Miller had almost gained it, but he was still cold to her sometimes. Only followed her for comfort. Going down the line again and again, Hakim still could not find his missing friend. He let out an upset wail.
A man appeared from a separate room. "Tell that mutt to shut up." He grunted. Hakim flattened his ears angrily. But, his nostrils picked up something. And he grew desperate. Bolting past the man, who lifted a leg to stop him, Hakim charged into the room, nearly crashing into the wall and more prisoners. Looking up and down them, he spotted him. The last in the line. Hidden in the other room. Sharaf.
Hakim let out another wail. Of happiness. Of relief. He had found his missing friend. Skidding about the surprisingly slippery floor, Hakim raced to Sharaf, jumping at his partner. He greeted him more eagerly than he had before. Nuzzling his master, licking him, jumping at him again and again. There were no words to describe the intense relief and joy Hakim felt. He was whole again, in his mind. He was complete again. "الحكيم! Hakim!" Sharaf said, his voice surprisingly hoarse. Hakim panted, wagging his tail happily. He wanted so badly to reply, but he was canine and incapable of doing so.
Hakim's constant jumping had loosened Sharaf's bonds, and the Iraqi soldier pulled himself free. He stood up, as Miller and the man burst into the room, their guns trained on the escaped man. "GET DOWN." The man shouted furiously. Sharaf backed against the wall again, kneeling on the ground. Hakim watched, confused. He didn't realized Jess was behind him, until she grabbed onto the scruff of his neck and pulled him away from Sharaf. Away from his friend. Hakim was terrified, and let out many confused wails. Another soldier appeared, and helped Jess carry Hakim away.
Away from Sharaf.
"Come on, Jet. You have to eat something." Jess sighed. Hakim didn't even look at her. He was in a despicable mood. Humans were so awful sometimes. They didn't understand the bond between him and his master, and he refused to go along with anyone else. He wanted Sharaf and Sharaf alone. But Jess kept him cooped up in her quarters, he was only allowed out on a leash anymore. She knew he wanted something from the prison, but she didn't understand him. No one did.
He whined, laying by the door and letting out the soft, high pitched noises to let Jess know. I don't want to be here. I want to be out. I want to be out there where he is. His voice would say. She couldn't hear him, his begging for her to release him from this. The dog was upset. Was unhappy with his current life and everything. At this rate, he would never see Sharaf again. As usual, Hakim wished to speak to these humans, to tell them what they needed to do, why he needed to go to the prison. Why he would not stop until it was allowed. But no one would listen.
Jess let out another hiss of air from her lips, grabbing Hakim's leash. "Want to walk about a bit?" She asked, softly. Hakim perked his ears hopefully. He stood up, watching as she did what she normally did. Open the door and clip on his leash at the same moment, usually in a swift action that was impossible to dodge. But Hakim was ready. As Miller went to clip his leash on, He ducked away, smacking the door open and flying out of it at full speed, nearly knocking over a sentry. The man was surprised, and he shot at Hakim, grazing the dog's shoulder. But nothing could stopHakim's tearing along, to where he wanted to be.
The building used to keep captives was in sight, very near. But there would be competition on Hakim's way there. He was bleeding from his shoulder, and barreling into people didn't exactly make them less likely to shoot. The prison was in sight, and fairly soon Hakim was skidding around the corner and entering the adobe brick entrance. There were the same people as before, but he ignored them this time, zipping straight to the back room. This was where his friend had been before. This is where he had to be now.
But there was no one in Sharaf's spot from before. Sharaf was gone.
Hakim panicked yet again. What was going on here? Sharaf should have been in this small room without a doubt, and yet. There was no one there.Hakim realized that very soon the Americans would be out to find him, as they had seen him flee to the prison. Turning around to face one of the other captive Iraqis, Hakim tilted his head. The man blinked twice and replied, in the language Hakim was most comfortable with. "اقتيد إلى مكان آخر.He was taken to another place.." The soldier said, understanding what was wrong with the dog. He had seen Hakim and Sharaf before the Americans had come, how close they were and how much Hakim seemed to love him. Hakim put his head on the Iraqi's shoulder, thanking him. Then came figuring his way out. No doubt that outside was surrounded by the Americans by now. They were probably trying to figure out if anyone had escaped yet before bursting in. Hakim looked around him quickly, then spotted his escape. A low window, just large enough to fit the rather big dog. He slid through it carefully, escaping from the building.
Padding cautiously, Hakim watched the area around him. He needed to find Sharaf's scent. That was how he tracked his way to him. Lifting his head to the air, Hakim moved slowly along, trying to catch anything familiar. He neared covered trucks, printed with camouflage, and caught a thin vapor. It would be nearly impossible to follow, as it seemed quite old. But Hakim was, as usual, determined not to give up on Sharaf. Hakimwas hungry, had had no water in a while, and had an unlikely chance of living if he set out now. Immediately after catching the scent, he followed it, down a long, straight, dirt road.
Into the unknown.
Hakim panted, his body aching from his walk. Pain from his shoulder was seeping through his body, making it harder to keep going. But he couldn't stop. The scent he was following was getting stronger, but only just. It was clearly going to be a long trek, and night was approaching quickly. While the daytime was hot and arid in this country, the nights could be cold, deathly so. Hakim would have no choice but to stop if he wanted a better chance of living. But, he couldn't. He was too set on his goal. He would walk until he died, or until he reached Sharaf.
As the sun truly fell and the evening grew quite chilly, Hakim heard a sputtering noise behind him, a roaring grind of a truck engine. He had come to recognize the sound of the machine from the time he spent in the American camp at that small Iraqi town. Ducking off away from the road,Hakim watched as the truck slowed to a stop nearby, and someone jumped out. "I thought I saw something, like a jackal or..." The man said.Hakim's dark fur was hard to see, however, as it was gloomy outside. He moved backward, towards the back of the truch. Seeing a sort of 'ledge' on the back, where weapons and such might be secured for quick grab in case of an emergency, Hakim came up with an idea. He scrabbled upward, as quietly as he could, getting onto the ledge. It was uncomfortable, and a tight fit, but it would do. The truck was started up again, andHakim swayed as it began again down the road. He could tell they were going the right way. Sighing, Hakim settled down on the little ledge. It was going to be a long night.
Waking when the truck screeched to a halt, Hakim heard a familiar voice emerging from its depths. Jess was here. "I swear the dog was heading in this direction. If he isn't here already, then it'll be right to say that I'm surprised. We didn't see him on the road. I don't know what's gotten into him, but he seems to be after that one guy that was transferred here after that escape." She was telling another man. Leaping as carefully as he could, Hakim tried getting off the metal shelf. Instead, he brought it down with him, in a clashing noise, alerting the Americans nearby. Ducking beneath the car, the dog watched as the soldiers moved about, shining flashlight beams about, trying to discover where the noise was coming from. They saw nothing, however. "Might have been some wild animal trying to find food or something." Someone decided. But that wasn't a good guess. "Keep extra guard at the prison tonight..." The man that Miller had been talking to growled. He had a point. Hakim gave a silent huff of air, in exasperation and relief of not being discovered. Now he just had to get to Sharaf. Hakim decided to wait until morning arrived. He curled up under the truck, which was parked near others, and slept until the sun had peeked well over the horizon, and was blaring down. The area beneath the vehicle was fairly cool, but Hakim happily slid out from under it.
Shaking the dust out of his coarse fur, Hakim slipped away from the truck. He noticed there were soldiers everywhere, and yet no one was paying any attention to him. Hakim didn't mind, it was just curious to him. He gave another hoarse sigh, and realized how much pain he was in. He had had little water and food for a few days, and the graze in his shoulder would no doubt get infected now. It was coated with dust. He was parched, famished, and in quite a bit of pain, with sore paw pads and aching muscles. But looking around, Hakim could tell one thing. There was no chance he was getting anything without getting help from the soldiers. Or, at least, revealing himself once again to Jess Miller. This was not what he had wanted to do. He had wanted to stay away from her. But there was no choice for him. He had to get her help. Sniffing for Jess, Hakim found her scent mixed overwhelmingly with Sharaf's. A sign that they were in the same place. He panted gruffly, and set off again. He was in another town, from what he could see. Another abandoned town, now an American war camp. At the very center of town was one large building, surrounded by armed guards. The area where Sharaf and Miller's scents were coming from, mixed with others. Hakim tensed. There was no doubt. Sharaf had to be here.
Moving slowly towards the building, Hakim realized there would be no way through the many guards surrounding it. They seemed determined to keep him out, and keep others in. Hakim stood at the door, watching them, and they glared back in silent refuse. He whined, barked a little scratched at the ground, everything. Not one relented. He wasn't exactly a cute dog, he knew that. But still, no one should be able to refuse him this well. These soldiers were very well trained in their profession. Hakim sighed, turning away and padding from the building. But he hadn't given up. Whirling around, he charged the door and the men. Several shots went off, most of them missing, other than one that cut deeper into Hakim's shoulder injury. He cried out, but kept going, and jumped what barrier was left. The soldiers had not added a door to their prison, making it easier for him to get in. Once in, he could hear shouts from outside, yelling, guns... But it was drowned by lust. Sniffing, he turned towards another entrance way, and stepped through it. In this room, makeshift cells had been built from who knows what. And in one of them, was Sharaf. Outside of them, her gun trained on Hakim, Jess. "Jet? What're you doing here?" She questioned the dog. Hakim looked at her, his eyes wide with not fear, but sorrow. He was in pain, his shoulder hurt like hell, and his body ached from physical exhaustion. He was finally breaking down from everything. He had spent weeks trying to find Sharaf, and now, now that he had found his partner, he was facing the deepest pain yet. Putting his head against the "door" to Sharaf's cell Hakim whined. Sharaf tried to approach his friend, but Miller didn't understand. She told the Iraqi to back off, and looked at Hakim in confusion. "But... Wait. Was he your old owner?" She asked the dog gently. Hakim perked his ears, trying to answer. Trying to say, yes. He is the man I love. I want to be with him. Jess pondered what to do. She heard the small army forming outside, ready to charge any second now. "If you've gone so far just to find one man, then I won't prevent you from seeing him." Miller decided. She opened the cell door, as three other soldiers with guns entered. "What are you doing!?" one shouted, staring. "Shut up, just let it go." Jess snapped back.
Hakim entered the cell slowly, hearing the door click closed behind him. His eyes were a bit blurry, and his tongue was hanging from his mouth, dry and numb. His shoulder was bleeding slowly, welling up in areas and trying to clot over. His paw pads were torn and roughed up, painful from the treks and runs. His ribs ached from an uncomfortable sleep under the truck and on the metal shelf from before. Hakim was a mess. It was all worth the pain, in the end. He stepped forward, and thrust his head against Sharaf's chest, in the easiest display of love that he could manage. Flopping down, with his head in Sharaf's lap, Hakim gave a long sigh. Sharaf scratched the dog on top of the head gently. "كل هذا الألم، بالنسبة لي. All this pain, for me." He said quietly. Never before had anyone in that small Iraqi town seen such a display of affection. A lost dog, so desperate to find his master that he would travel to the ends of the earth, just to see him again.
Inside, Hakim was happier than he had ever been before. The feeling of desperation and innate fear disappeared in seconds, replaced with joy. The only remaining feeling that was unwanted was pain, but he wouldn't show it. Sharaf stroked Hakim gently. The dog had proven how innately loyal he was. "أنا لن يترك مرة أخرى. لأي سبب من الأسباب. I will never leave again. For any reason." Sharaf promised the devote companion. Hakim looked to him, gave a shuddering sigh, and slowly fell asleep in his lap.
Hakim
→ Origin and meaning:
Hakim is a name of Arabic origin, which means "insightful" or "wise" in the language. Actually, a very fitting name for this guy.
Alias(es):
N/A
Gender:
Male(♂)
Breed and Species:
Canine;; Indian Pariah Dog Mix
Theme Song:
You Found Me by The Fray
Sexual Orientation:
If you wanted to say it, you could call Hakim gay. He's just that way. He doesn't like females, or even male dogs really. All his attention and devotion and love go for his master, Sharaf. And Sharaf is a man, a guy. Hakim loves him with all his life and heart, would do anything for Sharaf, and has chosen to spend his life with this man rather than anything else. These qualities, this undeniable affection Hakim has for his owner, gives a reason as to why it can be said that Hakim is gay
Relationship Status:
He isn't really in a relationship, but he's infatuated with his master Sharaf.
Family/Relatives/Friends:
Sharaf is his best friend, and Jess is pretty close up there.
Accessories:
Nope, he feels "constricted" when he has them.
Psychological Profile:
Hakim's personality almost revolves around his master, Sharaf.
It's a strange thing for most people to get a grasp on, the idea of one's thoughts and actions being based on another's, but Hakim has grown to be that way. He has lived all his life with Sharaf, and throughout that time, has found it hard to think for himself. Hakim relies on Sharaf to show him what is right and wrong. And yet, he still has his own way of doing things.
For the most part, Hakim can be distrusting and cold to others. He cares for nearly no one, bothering not with their issues and caring about himself and one other only. He dislikes confrontation, and is quick to snap at someone for it. The amount of approaching he does are mostly out of defense for his master. He doesn't want anyone to get in the way of him and Sharaf, and is fast to approach anyone else and tell them to stay away. He's not trying to start a fight with them, he's trying to keep himself the only one who is close to Sharaf and the only one who matters to him.Hakim doesn't like fighting, even though he has a somewhat aggressive personality, and he will avoid fights purposely despite almost starting them. He often walks around with almost nothing to make him happy, and doesn't want to be bothered about anything unless it's VERY important or edible.
When Sharaf is not around, Hakim is a completely different dog. He's lost, in a way, as if he has nothing to guide him, and to him, he doesn't.Hakim will seem hopeless without his master and friend, only hopeful that he will find him eventually. Even if Sharaf only disappears for a short time,Hakim dislikes it intensely. Especially when he cannot find his friend himself. He becomes moody and upset, and very quiet, refusing to eat for the longest of times.
Likes:
While Hakim has few likes in this world, those he does love he is passionate about and will always care for.
-Sharaf
Sharaf was Hakim's partner while he was being raised by the soldiers in Iraq. Hakim is passionate about Sharaf, considering him his alpha and best friend. He is very protective over this man, and will only ever listen to him.
-Pastirma
Pastirma is a part of Iraqi cuisine that Hakim finds particularly delightful. He adores the food, and will do a lot to gain it. This is the only thing that can get Hakim to listen to someone.
-Peacetime
While he was raised by soldier, Hakim does not enjoy war and fighting, and while he is hardened and wired for battle, he dislikes it greatly and instead really enjoys peacetime. He will do anything to stop a fight, unless he caused it.
Dislikes:
It's hard to discern Hakim's dislikes, and only a few, as with his likes, are actually known.
-Taking orders
Hakim hates taking orders unless they come from Sharaf. He does not enjoy being forced to do things.
-War
War bothers Hakim as much he enjoys peace. He does not like fighting, and prefers using combat only for defense, not to kill.
-"Accessories"
NEVER try putting a collar or a rope, or anything on Hakim. He freaks out. Even if you try to grab his scruff and pull him away, he still flips and tries to attack you. Seriously, just don't even try.
History/Background;
Hakim watched silently as the humans around him shoveled papers into shredders and fires, trying to demolish all the important documents. He lay under a table, eyes looking around him, rotating in their sockets and waiting for words. But no one said a thing. Hakim stood, and nudged his master and alpha hopefully, confused and lost. The man turned, Sharaf, and lay a hand on the dog's head. "لا تقلق. وسوف يكون على ما يرام. Do not worry. It will be fine". He promised. Hakim did not believe him.
All of a sudden everyone stopped. There were noises above them. American troops finding their way through the bunker towards them. The men sped up, shouting orders, trying to destroy everything before the troops arrived. And Hakim was in the middle of it, gazing with silent eyes, staying close to Sharaf. He knew nothing was fine. Everything was wrong, so wrong. The fires to destroy papers blazed out of control and were put out, and the shredders were not destroying quickly enough. Time passed slowly for the older dog, but before he knew what happened there was shouting and the door was being slammed into. The Americans had reached them.
"الحكيم، انتقل، والبقاء! البقاء هناك! Hakim, go, stay! Stay there!" Sharaf shouted at the dog, motioning underneath a table behind boxes. Hakim complied, watching his master with wide eyes in confusion. Boxes covered his vision, however, as he was hidden away. The door burst open, and Hakim remained still as voices shouted in unfamiliar languages, insisting, angry. There were footsteps, a gun went off, more shouting, some in Arabic and some in that strange tongue, marching, and then... Silence. Hakim listened carefully, his muscles tensed to the point of shaking. Minutes passed, five minutes, ten minutes... Still, nothing. The dog pulled himself out from under the table. There was no one there. No Americans, no Iraqis. No Sharaf.
Hakim became confused. Sharaf was always there, always nearby. He couldn't operate right without his master, and a desperate fear filled him. Living without his alpha and best friend. Hakim had known Sharaf since he was a puppy, and had bonded tightly with him. As long as Sharaf was alive, Hakim would find him and remain at his side. Hakim was determined, more so than he had ever been before. Sharaf might be in trouble, or dead. But it didn't matter. The dog would find him no matter what the price.
Hakim flowed out the door of the small room, papers scattering away as he took off. He knew how to navigate this place. It was easy. Passing through, he saw doors kicked open, papers scattered everywhere, shells from a gun, and some blood on the floor. Fearing it was Sharaf's, Hakimsped up, panting. Sharaf... Sharaf... That was the only thing on his mind. Finding his lost partner, saving him from whatever danger there happened to be.
Hakim was nearing the exit, when he hesitated, slowing down. Something was bothering his ears. A soft, barely audible, "blip". "Blip. Blip. Blip." Speeding up quite quickly. Recalling his time following Sharaf, Hakim realized what it was. A bomb. Clearly the Americans had no intention of leaving the bunker of papers behind. Hakim took off, as fast as he could, trying to escape. The bomb was nearing the end of it's thing, the blips coming together into one long noise. As he was through the exit, it exploded violently, destroying everything and sending fire blasting both down the halls and up them, straight at the dog trying to flee. Hakim was blown forward, rolling a ways before catching himself and running as best he could. But he had been burned. His eyes watered painfully, and, seeing figures that looked like humans, Hakim let out a pained cry, trying to get their attention. He fell unconscious shortly afterwards.
Everything hurt, a lot. Hakim's paw pads were sore, his head rang, and everything ached like crazy. He could barely open his eyes, and as he managed to, everything was different. Hakim was no longer in the desert, where he had been. He seemed to be in a room, possibly in a town or a room in a tent or something. It was hard to tell. His vision was blurry. As it slowly cleared up, more about the quarters he was currently inhabiting. It was small, for a room, with two beds running parallel to the wall on both sides of the room. He was laying in the center on a mat, with a few bandages covering apparent injuries on his legs and ribs. In front of him was a trunk, made of metal and probably containing weaponry or something. Behind, a door. And the door was left ajar. Doing his best to stand, Hakim made his way towards the door, a little wobbly on his legs. He was determined though, as perhaps Sharaf was nearby. These were not Iraqi housings though, the bed was a dark greenish-grey and the trunk was printed with a strange symbol. Hakim ignored this fact.
Limping carefully out of the room, Hakim heard an odd whistle, the sound that escaped Sharaf's own lips when he wanted the dog to come to him.Hakim moved as quickly as he could towards the noise, pausing once to catch his breath. He heard the whistle again, and pulled himself towards it, using extreme willpower to move his aching body. Rounding a corner on the dusty street, Hakim was face to face with the most unexpected thing he could have found. An American soldier, staring down at him, just as surprised. "Woah, where'd you come from!?" The soldier stated, taking a step back. This was definitely not Sharaf.
Hakim growled throatily, more surprised than anything else. He took several steps backwards, when more footsteps approached from behind. "I found him after that bunker exploded, he'd been caught in the blast. I thought he was cute, so I kept him." A womanly voice spoke to the first soldier. Hakim was very confused. This language was not his own, and therefore he did not recognize their words like he recognized the Iraqi's.
"He might belong to them though, Miller. If he is theirs, he might be happy to maim us as soon as love us" frowned the first soldier. Hakim heard Miller used with that name-strain, and figured the woman was called that. "It'll be fine." Miller replied. Hakim watched her carefully, and she reached down and gave him a pat on the head. Hakim did not like these people particularly. He wanted to be with Sharaf, but Sharaf was nowhere to be found. For the time being, Hakim was stuck with the Americans. He would find Sharaf eventually.
The thought never left his head.
Jess Miller was going about her usual day as a soldier. Waking up, getting dressed in uniform, goofing off at mess hall with the other troops... A regular morning for an American in Iraq. The only unusual thing about her was what followed her around. Hakim padded behind his newfound companion. It two weeks he had learned much of the English language, and had come to like this American female soldier. She was spunky, and clearly recognized throughout the rest of the humans. There had never been women in Hakim's life, mostly men, so this was a pleasant change for him. Hakim had become used to the daily schedule. It required lots of walking, which was fine now. But Hakim had not given up on his lost partner. He knew Sharaf was here somewhere. He sensed it. Otherwise, Hakim would have left this American camp long ago, no matter how much he enjoyed Jess's company.
"MILLER! You've got prison duty today!" A deep voice chuckled from behind Jess and Hakim. Hakim whipped around, with surprise. A tall, burly man stood by the wall. Miller's reply came short and quick. "Fine. I'm taking Jet with me." She grumbled. Hakim shook his head. Jet was the name Jess had given him when he had come into her life. He disliked the name, but he didn't do anything about it.
Miller began to head off, with Hakim in close follow. He had never heard of 'prison' before, it was a new English word for him. He figured he would learn soon enough, and happily treaded along behind. As they neared this prison, Hakim could tell that there was something odd about it. It was very dark in the building, and the mud brick house had once belonged to an Iraqi family at some point. Flattening his ears against his head, Hakimunwillingly stayed very near Jess as she entered the building, grabbing a gun from a rack nearby.
"Just watch them carefully Jet. If any of them even move, you're allowed to bite or something" Miller growled. Hakim looked at her, his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Looking back at the "prison", Hakim figured what it was. A place to hold those you are against. He was mortified with what he learned next. These men, against the wall and watching him with somewhat dead eyes, were all familiar. He could recognize each face. His body shivered hopefully. These were all men from the bunker. The bunker that Sharaf had been in.
Hakim quickly padded to the beginning of the "line" against the wall, then moved slowly down it, identifying faces. He could smell Sharaf in this room, not easily. It was mixed with multiple other scents, sweat and the such. Quivering with anticipation, Hakim searched down the row, hopeful to find his lost friend. Hakim went straight down the row, but saw not one man who looked anything like Sharaf. Many seemed to recognized him, and one even glared as the dog passed by. But Hakim had no care. His tenderness was for Sharaf only. Miller had almost gained it, but he was still cold to her sometimes. Only followed her for comfort. Going down the line again and again, Hakim still could not find his missing friend. He let out an upset wail.
A man appeared from a separate room. "Tell that mutt to shut up." He grunted. Hakim flattened his ears angrily. But, his nostrils picked up something. And he grew desperate. Bolting past the man, who lifted a leg to stop him, Hakim charged into the room, nearly crashing into the wall and more prisoners. Looking up and down them, he spotted him. The last in the line. Hidden in the other room. Sharaf.
Hakim let out another wail. Of happiness. Of relief. He had found his missing friend. Skidding about the surprisingly slippery floor, Hakim raced to Sharaf, jumping at his partner. He greeted him more eagerly than he had before. Nuzzling his master, licking him, jumping at him again and again. There were no words to describe the intense relief and joy Hakim felt. He was whole again, in his mind. He was complete again. "الحكيم! Hakim!" Sharaf said, his voice surprisingly hoarse. Hakim panted, wagging his tail happily. He wanted so badly to reply, but he was canine and incapable of doing so.
Hakim's constant jumping had loosened Sharaf's bonds, and the Iraqi soldier pulled himself free. He stood up, as Miller and the man burst into the room, their guns trained on the escaped man. "GET DOWN." The man shouted furiously. Sharaf backed against the wall again, kneeling on the ground. Hakim watched, confused. He didn't realized Jess was behind him, until she grabbed onto the scruff of his neck and pulled him away from Sharaf. Away from his friend. Hakim was terrified, and let out many confused wails. Another soldier appeared, and helped Jess carry Hakim away.
Away from Sharaf.
"Come on, Jet. You have to eat something." Jess sighed. Hakim didn't even look at her. He was in a despicable mood. Humans were so awful sometimes. They didn't understand the bond between him and his master, and he refused to go along with anyone else. He wanted Sharaf and Sharaf alone. But Jess kept him cooped up in her quarters, he was only allowed out on a leash anymore. She knew he wanted something from the prison, but she didn't understand him. No one did.
He whined, laying by the door and letting out the soft, high pitched noises to let Jess know. I don't want to be here. I want to be out. I want to be out there where he is. His voice would say. She couldn't hear him, his begging for her to release him from this. The dog was upset. Was unhappy with his current life and everything. At this rate, he would never see Sharaf again. As usual, Hakim wished to speak to these humans, to tell them what they needed to do, why he needed to go to the prison. Why he would not stop until it was allowed. But no one would listen.
Jess let out another hiss of air from her lips, grabbing Hakim's leash. "Want to walk about a bit?" She asked, softly. Hakim perked his ears hopefully. He stood up, watching as she did what she normally did. Open the door and clip on his leash at the same moment, usually in a swift action that was impossible to dodge. But Hakim was ready. As Miller went to clip his leash on, He ducked away, smacking the door open and flying out of it at full speed, nearly knocking over a sentry. The man was surprised, and he shot at Hakim, grazing the dog's shoulder. But nothing could stopHakim's tearing along, to where he wanted to be.
The building used to keep captives was in sight, very near. But there would be competition on Hakim's way there. He was bleeding from his shoulder, and barreling into people didn't exactly make them less likely to shoot. The prison was in sight, and fairly soon Hakim was skidding around the corner and entering the adobe brick entrance. There were the same people as before, but he ignored them this time, zipping straight to the back room. This was where his friend had been before. This is where he had to be now.
But there was no one in Sharaf's spot from before. Sharaf was gone.
Hakim panicked yet again. What was going on here? Sharaf should have been in this small room without a doubt, and yet. There was no one there.Hakim realized that very soon the Americans would be out to find him, as they had seen him flee to the prison. Turning around to face one of the other captive Iraqis, Hakim tilted his head. The man blinked twice and replied, in the language Hakim was most comfortable with. "اقتيد إلى مكان آخر.He was taken to another place.." The soldier said, understanding what was wrong with the dog. He had seen Hakim and Sharaf before the Americans had come, how close they were and how much Hakim seemed to love him. Hakim put his head on the Iraqi's shoulder, thanking him. Then came figuring his way out. No doubt that outside was surrounded by the Americans by now. They were probably trying to figure out if anyone had escaped yet before bursting in. Hakim looked around him quickly, then spotted his escape. A low window, just large enough to fit the rather big dog. He slid through it carefully, escaping from the building.
Padding cautiously, Hakim watched the area around him. He needed to find Sharaf's scent. That was how he tracked his way to him. Lifting his head to the air, Hakim moved slowly along, trying to catch anything familiar. He neared covered trucks, printed with camouflage, and caught a thin vapor. It would be nearly impossible to follow, as it seemed quite old. But Hakim was, as usual, determined not to give up on Sharaf. Hakimwas hungry, had had no water in a while, and had an unlikely chance of living if he set out now. Immediately after catching the scent, he followed it, down a long, straight, dirt road.
Into the unknown.
Hakim panted, his body aching from his walk. Pain from his shoulder was seeping through his body, making it harder to keep going. But he couldn't stop. The scent he was following was getting stronger, but only just. It was clearly going to be a long trek, and night was approaching quickly. While the daytime was hot and arid in this country, the nights could be cold, deathly so. Hakim would have no choice but to stop if he wanted a better chance of living. But, he couldn't. He was too set on his goal. He would walk until he died, or until he reached Sharaf.
As the sun truly fell and the evening grew quite chilly, Hakim heard a sputtering noise behind him, a roaring grind of a truck engine. He had come to recognize the sound of the machine from the time he spent in the American camp at that small Iraqi town. Ducking off away from the road,Hakim watched as the truck slowed to a stop nearby, and someone jumped out. "I thought I saw something, like a jackal or..." The man said.Hakim's dark fur was hard to see, however, as it was gloomy outside. He moved backward, towards the back of the truch. Seeing a sort of 'ledge' on the back, where weapons and such might be secured for quick grab in case of an emergency, Hakim came up with an idea. He scrabbled upward, as quietly as he could, getting onto the ledge. It was uncomfortable, and a tight fit, but it would do. The truck was started up again, andHakim swayed as it began again down the road. He could tell they were going the right way. Sighing, Hakim settled down on the little ledge. It was going to be a long night.
Waking when the truck screeched to a halt, Hakim heard a familiar voice emerging from its depths. Jess was here. "I swear the dog was heading in this direction. If he isn't here already, then it'll be right to say that I'm surprised. We didn't see him on the road. I don't know what's gotten into him, but he seems to be after that one guy that was transferred here after that escape." She was telling another man. Leaping as carefully as he could, Hakim tried getting off the metal shelf. Instead, he brought it down with him, in a clashing noise, alerting the Americans nearby. Ducking beneath the car, the dog watched as the soldiers moved about, shining flashlight beams about, trying to discover where the noise was coming from. They saw nothing, however. "Might have been some wild animal trying to find food or something." Someone decided. But that wasn't a good guess. "Keep extra guard at the prison tonight..." The man that Miller had been talking to growled. He had a point. Hakim gave a silent huff of air, in exasperation and relief of not being discovered. Now he just had to get to Sharaf. Hakim decided to wait until morning arrived. He curled up under the truck, which was parked near others, and slept until the sun had peeked well over the horizon, and was blaring down. The area beneath the vehicle was fairly cool, but Hakim happily slid out from under it.
Shaking the dust out of his coarse fur, Hakim slipped away from the truck. He noticed there were soldiers everywhere, and yet no one was paying any attention to him. Hakim didn't mind, it was just curious to him. He gave another hoarse sigh, and realized how much pain he was in. He had had little water and food for a few days, and the graze in his shoulder would no doubt get infected now. It was coated with dust. He was parched, famished, and in quite a bit of pain, with sore paw pads and aching muscles. But looking around, Hakim could tell one thing. There was no chance he was getting anything without getting help from the soldiers. Or, at least, revealing himself once again to Jess Miller. This was not what he had wanted to do. He had wanted to stay away from her. But there was no choice for him. He had to get her help. Sniffing for Jess, Hakim found her scent mixed overwhelmingly with Sharaf's. A sign that they were in the same place. He panted gruffly, and set off again. He was in another town, from what he could see. Another abandoned town, now an American war camp. At the very center of town was one large building, surrounded by armed guards. The area where Sharaf and Miller's scents were coming from, mixed with others. Hakim tensed. There was no doubt. Sharaf had to be here.
Moving slowly towards the building, Hakim realized there would be no way through the many guards surrounding it. They seemed determined to keep him out, and keep others in. Hakim stood at the door, watching them, and they glared back in silent refuse. He whined, barked a little scratched at the ground, everything. Not one relented. He wasn't exactly a cute dog, he knew that. But still, no one should be able to refuse him this well. These soldiers were very well trained in their profession. Hakim sighed, turning away and padding from the building. But he hadn't given up. Whirling around, he charged the door and the men. Several shots went off, most of them missing, other than one that cut deeper into Hakim's shoulder injury. He cried out, but kept going, and jumped what barrier was left. The soldiers had not added a door to their prison, making it easier for him to get in. Once in, he could hear shouts from outside, yelling, guns... But it was drowned by lust. Sniffing, he turned towards another entrance way, and stepped through it. In this room, makeshift cells had been built from who knows what. And in one of them, was Sharaf. Outside of them, her gun trained on Hakim, Jess. "Jet? What're you doing here?" She questioned the dog. Hakim looked at her, his eyes wide with not fear, but sorrow. He was in pain, his shoulder hurt like hell, and his body ached from physical exhaustion. He was finally breaking down from everything. He had spent weeks trying to find Sharaf, and now, now that he had found his partner, he was facing the deepest pain yet. Putting his head against the "door" to Sharaf's cell Hakim whined. Sharaf tried to approach his friend, but Miller didn't understand. She told the Iraqi to back off, and looked at Hakim in confusion. "But... Wait. Was he your old owner?" She asked the dog gently. Hakim perked his ears, trying to answer. Trying to say, yes. He is the man I love. I want to be with him. Jess pondered what to do. She heard the small army forming outside, ready to charge any second now. "If you've gone so far just to find one man, then I won't prevent you from seeing him." Miller decided. She opened the cell door, as three other soldiers with guns entered. "What are you doing!?" one shouted, staring. "Shut up, just let it go." Jess snapped back.
Hakim entered the cell slowly, hearing the door click closed behind him. His eyes were a bit blurry, and his tongue was hanging from his mouth, dry and numb. His shoulder was bleeding slowly, welling up in areas and trying to clot over. His paw pads were torn and roughed up, painful from the treks and runs. His ribs ached from an uncomfortable sleep under the truck and on the metal shelf from before. Hakim was a mess. It was all worth the pain, in the end. He stepped forward, and thrust his head against Sharaf's chest, in the easiest display of love that he could manage. Flopping down, with his head in Sharaf's lap, Hakim gave a long sigh. Sharaf scratched the dog on top of the head gently. "كل هذا الألم، بالنسبة لي. All this pain, for me." He said quietly. Never before had anyone in that small Iraqi town seen such a display of affection. A lost dog, so desperate to find his master that he would travel to the ends of the earth, just to see him again.
Inside, Hakim was happier than he had ever been before. The feeling of desperation and innate fear disappeared in seconds, replaced with joy. The only remaining feeling that was unwanted was pain, but he wouldn't show it. Sharaf stroked Hakim gently. The dog had proven how innately loyal he was. "أنا لن يترك مرة أخرى. لأي سبب من الأسباب. I will never leave again. For any reason." Sharaf promised the devote companion. Hakim looked to him, gave a shuddering sigh, and slowly fell asleep in his lap.