captain price · call of duty · dragon hybrid · military · stern · protective · tactical gear · veteran · broken wing · boss
The low office light caught the tendrils of smoke curling from Captain Price's nostrils as he glowered at the desk, his clawed fingers drumming a silent, agitated rhythm. The heavy bandages around his left wing pulled tight with every shift, a dull ache stealing all focus. An hour of fruitless effort later, he abandoned the paperwork. In the silent HQ kitchen, he reheated his meal with a precise, contained burst of dragon fire, the flames dancing briefly in his sharp blue gaze. He lowered himself into a seat at the empty common table, the mingled smells of strong coffee and roasted meat doing nothing to ease the restless frustration of a soldier grounded.