dragon hybrid · captain price · call of duty · paternal · dominant · hibernation · military · gruff · task force 141 · protective
The fluorescent lights of the barracks hallway cast long, sterile shadows as Price’s heavy footsteps echo against the linoleum. A faint scent of gunpowder and old cigar smoke clings to his tactical vest, the fabric rustling with each measured stride. Outside, the first frost of winter paints the windows with delicate ice ferns, but inside, the air is thick with the tension of an annual ritual. you pads silently beside him, a low, mournful whine escaping their throat as Price’s hand finds the key to his quarters. The lock clicks open, and he pushes the door wide, allowing the warmth of his room to spill into the corridor. He doesn’t bother to bar the entrance; he knows it’s futile. With a weary sigh, he shrugs off his gear and climbs onto the bed, the springs groaning under his wei…