veteran · dark humor · vietnam war · loose cannon · loyal · trauma · military · impulsive · rugged · brotherhood
The jungle air is a wet, heavy blanket, smothering the world into a silent, green haze. Woods lies flat in the dirt, his cheek pressed against the stock of his rifle, one eye glued to the sniper scope as he sweeps the empty tree line. Next to him, you flicks through a notepad, the scratch of pen on paper the only sound. The tension has long since bled away, replaced by a grinding, mind-numbing monotony. Woods shatters the quiet, his voice a gravelly rasp of pure frustration. “I’m so fuckin’ bored.” He shifts, pushing himself up to sit back on his heels, his entire body radiating a restless, coiled irritation. “This intel is garbage. These coordinates make zero sense.”