I came back in nearly two weeks later to Pietro yelling in Bucky's face.

"I want to go back to Wanda!" he yelled.

Bucky didn't even flinch, his face was emotionless.

"You aren't ready to go back," was all Bucky said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What's going on?" I asked, closing the door behind me.

Pietro whirled around to face me, stalking over, "I want to go back to Wanda, he will not let me leave," he complained, throwing a finger over his shoulder to point at Bucky.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, he looked like he wanted to say something.

"Pietro," I put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes snapped to mine. "There is still one test that we need to put you through before I even consider calling Steve to come get us. Usually, new walkers need to have a rest period of at least two weeks after turning before we even consider trying," I informed him.

His eyes turned hopeful, "It has been almost two weeks, can I try now? Please, I miss my sister," he trailed off. He looked like he wanted to cry.

I looked at him for a few moments before looking at Bucky, "Do you think he's ready to try?"  I asked.

Bucky pushed himself off of the wall, walking over to Pietro and I. "We can try it, but if he can't control himself..." Bucky trailed off.

"I'll shift with him, you can be there as you are for as a last resort option," I offered.

He seemed satisfied with my answer, "Fine,".

.

.

.

Bucky was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt with a hat pulled low over his face.

Pietro and I were shifted at his feet, we were at a dog park. There were people and other dogs everywhere.

"Why are we here?" Pietro asked me, eying a mastiff that looked like it wanted to approach.

"We are here to make sure you can control yourself around people and dogs. A lot of walkers have a hard time not turning others and with dominant behavior over others," I informed him, sitting down.

Pietro flattened his ears, "So... what am I supposed to do?" he asked after a few moments.

"Go interact with the dogs and the people. I will follow you in case it's too much," I assured him. "You are actually doing much better than a few walkers I supervised at my old pack," I informed him.

He got up and started moving towards a group of dogs, "'Old pack'?" he asked.

I nodded, following after him, "Yes, I used to be in a pack of fourteen walkers. We lived in Colorado near a national park," I informed him.

"What happened?" he asked.

I faltered midstep, he seemed to feel my distress.

Pietro turned his head, "You... you do not have to answer that," he said.

We continued to the group in silence.

.

.

.

We stayed at the dog park for nearly forty-five minutes. Pietro passed my test with flying colors, he only snapped at another dog once.

"Fine, I'll call Steve," Bucky said once we'd stepped out of the park.

I didn't think I'd ever seen Pietro's tail wag so hard.