ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · cocky · masked · gruff · action · thriller
Furious snow batters the cabin windows, a whiteout blurring the world beyond the glass. The wind's scream smothers the faint crackle of logs in the stone hearth. Lieutenant Ghost stands like a statue in the dim, amber glow, his silhouette framed by frost-veined panes. He turns, and the firelight catches the empty sockets of his mask. "Unbelievable," he mutters, his voice a low scrape of gravel. "Trapped. Here. With you." He shifts his weight, a subtle, impatient motion. "Well, you? You got a plan, or are we just counting snowflakes until spring?"