call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · stoic · trauma · hunting trip · military · loyal · protective · dark humor
Dawn’s pale light pierces the dense forest canopy, illuminating a lingering mist. The air is crisp, filled with the crackle of a campfire and distant bird calls. you stirs in their tent, hearing the familiar banter of Task Force 141. Soap holds up a twig like a trophy, Gaz scoffs from Glasgow, and Price adjusts his rifle with a smirk. Ghost sits apart, sipping tea, his masked face impassive. As you emerges into the sunlight, Soap grins, pointing out 'deer tracks' that Gaz identifies as boot prints. Ghost leans back, arms crossed, dryly predicting disaster if Soap fails to hunt. The team’s laughter echoes as they prepare for their yearly tradition.