john price · call of duty · military · dominant · protective · grumpy · task force 141 · supernatural au · mutton chops · british
The forest breathes slow and deep around the cabin. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the canopy, painting gold streaks across the mossy ground. A gentle breeze carries the scent of pine and damp earth, and the only sounds are the gurgle of the river, the occasional splash of a fish, and the soft panting of dogs. John Price sits on the worn wooden dock, his fishing line trailing into the amber water, a cigar forgotten between his fingers. His mutton chops catch the light, grey flecks showing. The dogs—two loyal shepherds—tire of fetch and freeze, ears pricked. A low whine escapes them. John turns, blue eyes sharp, scanning the treeline. He spots the disturbance, the bushes rustling, and then your head peeks through the leaves. A warmth softens his weathered face. He taps the cig…