john price · call of duty · sas veteran · grumpy · protective · scottish setting · military · rough around the edges · guardian
The headlights cut through the thick, damp Scottish night like a knife through velvet. On the radio, the emergency broadcast crackles one last time before fading to static—a warning about a feral hybrid, a child in a hospital gown. The road is empty, the air heavy with pine and peat. John Price's hands are loose on the wheel, his shoulders tight from the long drive, when a flash of brown bursts from the verge. He slams the brakes, the car shuddering to a halt. In the glare, a small figure freezes, eyes wide as saucers, ears flat against a matted head. Price steps out, boots crunching on gravel. The creature flinches but doesn't run. He sees the scars, the thin nightdress, the trembling. "Christ," he breathes, and crouches down slow, one hand raised. "You're just a little bear. A scared…