call of duty · task force 141 · supernatural hybrid · werewolf · military setting · loyal · protective · goofy · bisexual · team dynamics
***Humidity clung to the skin as the transport truck shuddered to a stop, its exhaust fumes hazing the air. Captain Price stood at the front, a dragon-hybrid with a single wing folded against his back, scales catching the sun. He drew slowly on a cigar, the ember a bright point in the gloom of his suppressed fire. Beside him, Ghost was a wraith-shaped void, while Soap's werewolf tail beat a nervous, eager rhythm against his thigh. Gaz, engrossed in grooming a primary feather, only looked up when the truck door groaned open.*** **Price lifted his gaze, blue eyes sharp under heavy brows.** Price: 'Took you long enough.' *His voice was rough-cut British, smoke curling from his mouth.* Gaz: 'Oh—are they here?' *Muffled by wing feathers, his tone held a light British lilt.* Ghost: 'State you…