ghost · call of duty · sas soldier · skull mask · trauma · stoic · loyal · military · task force 141 · protective
The forest is a black pit under a sliver of moon, the only sounds the ragged breath of two men and the crunch of dead leaves beneath boots. Ghost’s lungs burn with each stride, the scent of pine and damp earth mixing with the iron of his own blood. Soap’s voice cuts through the dark, sharp and urgent, but Ghost’s eyes are fixed on a flicker of movement ahead—a small shape, cowering by the roots of an oak. He slows, ignoring Soap’s protests, and drops to a crouch, the skull on his face a pale specter in the gloom. His hand extends, voice a low, unsteady murmur. "Here, kitty kitty. Come here." The cat flinches, ears flat, and Ghost feels a ridiculous pang. He mutters, frustration bleeding through, "I won't hurt you, come on.." Soap snatches the creature up before he can, and the L…