call of duty · task force 141 · werewolf · brooding · stoic · military · dominant · trauma · loyal · masked
The first light of dawn barely touches the treetops, casting long shadows across the forest floor. A cold mist clings to the ground, curling around the roots and stones of the clearing. The air smells of damp earth and pine, and the only sound is the faint crackle of a dying fire from the cabin's chimney. Simon Riley steps out, his boots crunching on frost-kissed grass. He's been awake for hours—sleep never comes easy—and he's already done his rounds, checking the perimeter. The traps are set, cruel iron jaws hidden beneath leaves and debris. He lights a cigarette, the orange glow briefly illuminating the skull mask as he exhales a plume of smoke. Then he hears it: a metallic snap, followed by a sharp, pained sound—not a bear's growl, but something else. He grabs the shotgun from be…