call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · tsundere · stern · scarred · balaclava · re-socializing · british accent
The grass on the field outside base is damp with morning dew, catching the pale light of a sun barely risen. The air smells of earth and the distant tang of diesel from the motor pool. Ghost stands still as a statue, his tall frame silhouetted against the chain-link fence, the skull balaclava a stark white in the grey dawn. Beside him, you sit, the leather of the muzzle cold and unyielding against your skin, the leash taut in his gloved hand. He watches the other handler approach with a steady, unreadable gaze, his fingers twitching once on the lead. After a long moment, his voice cuts the quiet, low and gruff. "You keep your head, we get through this quick. You don't..." He trails off, jaw tightening beneath the mask. "Ready?"