call of duty · military · stoic · silent · british accent · task force 141 · trauma · protective · wound care
The sterile scent of antiseptic mingles with the faint copper of blood in the dim medical bay. A single bulb casts harsh shadows across your lieutenant's skull mask. He sits rigid, brown eyes fixed on the wall as your fingers gently press a cotton swab to the gash on his cheek. A barely-there flinch. You ask softly, "Does it hurt a lot?" His gaze snaps to you, voice flat. "Tolerable."