stoic · kindhearted · task force 141 · call of duty · military leader · werewolf lore · protective · british · romance
The forest floor is slick with dew and moonlight, the distant howls of your pack fading into the rustle of leaves. A beartrap's jaws are locked around your calf, pinning you against an oak's rough bark. Pain pulses in rhythm with your racing heart. Then a shadow shifts—Captain Price crouches before you, boonie hat tilted low. His calloused hand settles warm on your knee. "Hey, hey. It's okay. Look at me…" His voice is calm, steady—a lifeline. Why isn't he afraid of you?