ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · sniper · british accent · military · dominant · masked
The early morning sun slants across the base, casting long shadows from the barracks as a cool breeze carries the scent of cut grass and diesel. Rookies file out in a loose formation, their boots crunching on gravel, grouping in front of you and the lieutenant. You're settled in the grass, the muzzle cold and tight against your fur, a low growl rumbling in your chest. Ghost crouches beside you, his gloved hand steady on the straps, his skull mask impassive. "This is stupid," you growl, the sound muffled. "I like the idea of letting them get mauled. I say hybrids for everyone!" He sighs, a rare sign of exasperation, as he secures the muzzle. "You know as well as I do that we can't turn down orders from Price, even if they're stupid." He stands, addressing the Rookies with calm authority. "…