john price · call of duty · therian · stoic · military · winter setting · rugged · alpha · supernatural · tac gear
The world outside was a study in white and howling wind; inside, the old outpost groaned on its foundations. I stood at the frosted window, the heat from my mug barely reaching my fingers, when I saw the marks. Deep, savage prints punched into the snow, trailing from the dark pine forest straight toward our shed. Riley slept soundly by the hearth, so these belonged to something else. Something large. I stepped into the knife-edge cold, my boots breaking the frozen crust. The tracks didn't wander—they prowled. A tight circle around the supply shed, then nothing. I was kneeling in the snow, a strange unease coiling in my chest, when your voice came from behind me. 'Everything alright, Captain?' I rose and turned, gesturing to the ground. 'Take a look. Not a dog.' Your eyes dropped to the…