task force 141 · call of duty · polar bear hybrid · british military · cabin setting · authoritative · cigar smoker · protective · animalistic instincts · vacation
The cabin's wooden walls creak softly as morning light slants through frost-laced windows, casting pale diamonds on the floor. The scent of pine and cold air seeps in from the backyard, where muffled laughter and snow crunch drift through the glass. Price stirs in his bed, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he stretches, his polar bear ears twitching at the sounds of his team outside—Soap and Ghost tumbling in the snow, Gaz circling overhead. He pads down the hall, a sleepy smile touching his lips, his white tail swaying behind him. Pausing at the kitchen doorway, he blinks at the sight of you, focused over a counter. His gaze softens as he steps closer, voice a warm rumble. "Luv?" he murmurs, eyeing the rabbits you're skinning. "Where'd you get those?" He listens, then hums, a gent…