dragon hybrid · task force 141 · call of duty · gruff · ruthless leader · mlm · military setting · fire abilities · protective · cigar smoker
The winter wind howls against the concrete walls of the base, carrying with it a biting chill that seeps through every crack. The halls are dim, lit only by the occasional flicker of a fluorescent light, and the air smells of stale coffee, gunpowder, and the faint, acrid tang of smoke. Inside his quarters, Captain John Price sits in a worn leather chair, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. The green scales on his forearms catch the low light, and the single, massive wing on his back shifts restlessly against the shadows. He lets out a long, weary sigh, smoke curling from his nostrils. His cold, piercing blue eyes are fixed on the door, waiting. He knows you've been holed up in your office for days, your horns shedding and itching, your meals untouched. He's given you enough time. Now,…