Hamed is by the beach, saying: "How f did I end up here? Shahd, the narrator, says: On the Gaza shore, near Rafah, and amid Israel’s relentless war on Gaza, a man sat to stare out at a blue vista seemingly untouched by war, for a moment. Beside him was a dog that he had only met a few hours ago. Hamed says: Beside me sat a dog, his breathing steady and calm. He wasn’t my dog, and I wasn’t his owner, yet here we were - two lost souls sharing the same solitude. Shahd is narrating: I heard Hamed's story from my sister, Rahaf. He was teaching her filmmaking in Maghazi camp, where we lived. The course focused on telling stories of the war. He told the students his story as an example. She wanted me to write the story in English, sure it would make a powerful piece. Her excitement was contagious, so I started writing. Back to Hamed's story as he speaks: On the night of June 2, 2024, Israel's invasion of Rafah was raging and bombs filled the air. Scared people filled my small house - neighbours, displaced people, and a dog who walked in and lay down, but didn't leave Hamed continues: This was no stray, I'm sure someone put him in my house to protect him. He ended up protecting me, barking to warn of danger. My bird, Nard, on the other hand was someone I had to protect. Hamed speaks to Nard: Don't fear soldiers, Nard, or hunger. There's good in the world; someone will take care of you, just like we're taking care of this dog. Hamed says: Three hours after I whispered promises to Nard, a missile landed on my roof, and I knew I couldn't stay. I said goodbye to the walls of my home and ran. Right behind me was the dog, who stayed by my side till we reached the beach. Hamed continues: There, I pitched a tent for us, and we stayed, unsure where else to go. We shared the tent for days. Sometimes he slept while I watched the stars as bombs and drones filled the air. Or I slept and he kepy watch, reassuring me with his presence Hamed continues: After two weeks like that, the harsh conditions and lack of food weakened me. I got hepatitis and had to spent a month in isolation at the hospital. And I had to leave the dog. A friend took care of him for me, but parting with him felt like parting with a piece of myself Hamed speaks: As soon as I left the hospital, I rushed to Rafah to see my house, and my dog, who greeted me with joyful barks. We snuck out to see my house but Israeli soldiers were everywhere, threatening, so I could only peek at it. I never found out what happened to Nard. Shahd speakes; When I was writing Hamed's story, Rahaf was thrilled. I finally finished late on the night of December 28 and left the book on the table so she could see if when she woke up. SHahd continues: But at 4am, as we tried to sleep, Israel bombed the house next door, and ours crumbled. I was pulled from the rubble, but Rahaf did not survive. She never knew that I had finished the story she wanted so badly.Shad says: I couldn’t think about that story any more. Until, a while later, I heard from Hamed. He told me how he had built another tent for him and the dog in Khan Younis, as close to Rafah as possible, and how he had lived, displaced like the rest of Gaza until the January ceasefire was declared. Hamed says: Rafah was ruins, just ruins. My house was gone. The city was gone, all that was left was heartache. I turned to walk back to my tent, still wondering what had happened to Nard. Had he found a new home, just as the dog had found with me? I no longer owned anything - no home, no possessions. But I am still here. I am the owner of the land.