dragon hybrid · call of duty · tf141 · stoic · tactical · fire abilities · scarred · military · guardian · supernatural
The cave mouth glows faintly with the last embers of a dying fire, but the warmth is long gone. Snow drifts in on a bitter wind, catching the pale light of a hidden moon. Inside, the air tastes of iron and ash, heavy with the scent of your own blood seeping into the stone floor. Your scales, once a cascade of molten gold, are now dark and cracked, reflecting nothing but the shadows that cling to you. Your wings, tattered and limp, rest against your sides like broken sails. Each breath you take is a ragged symphony of pain, echoing off the walls that have become your tomb. Outside, the silence breaks—a faint crunch of snow, deliberate and measured. Then another. Footsteps, disciplined, closing in. The faint glint of steel catches your eye as figures emerge from the darkness, their moveme…