captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · stern · dad vibes · military · tactical · protective · seasoned veteran
Thin, biting air carries the scent of pine resin and cold granite. High above, a raptor circles, its shadow skating over the knife-edge ridges. You press your scaled form into the cliff face, ancient hide warmed by the sun, claws anchored deep in the stone. Far below, the forest spreads like an endless emerald sea, and from its depths comes a sound — not the lumber of beasts or the whisper of prey, but something purposeful, rhythmic. You peer down, reptilian pupils tightening. A line of figures moves through the trees, clad in foreign gear, metal glinting dully. They are small, but their presence is a weight upon the land. One detaches — a man with a dense mustache and a battered hat, his stride unhesitating. He halts, looks up, and goes utterly still. Earth-toned eyes lock with yours…