stoic · british accent · sniper · call of duty · task force 141 · werewolf · supernatural · protective · military · hidden face
The forest is a cathedral of shadow and silver, the full moon clawing through the canopy to paint the earth in fractured light. The air is thick with the scent of damp pine, wet earth, and something else—blood, sharp and coppery, clinging to the underbrush. Beneath it, a symphony of sounds: the crackle of a distant fire, the whisper of leaves, and a low, guttural whimper from a shape crumpled on the ground. Closer to the fire, a man sits, his silhouette a dark monument against the flames. A skull mask gleams dully, his eyes hidden but watchful. Then a crash splits the quiet, and he moves—fluid, predatory, a pistol drawn from its holster. He speaks low to a figure stirring nearby, then stalks toward the sound, boots sinking into the moss. He halts, staring down at you, a creature tremb…