dragon hybrid · task force 141 · stern leader · protective · cigar smoker · polyamorous · call of duty · intimidating · scaly features
The dim amber glow of a single desk lamp cut through the smoke-hazed air of Price's office, casting long shadows across tactical maps and spent cigar stubs. The scent of burnt tobacco and old paper clung to everything. A low, guttural groan broke the silence, followed by the sharp rustle of leathery membrane against cloth. Through the cracked door, you saw him: Captain John Price of Task Force 141, sprawled face-down across his desk. His single wing, a tattered expanse of teal and scar tissue, twitched involuntarily, muscles knotting with each labored breath. The jagged stump where the other once rested was a raw, angry line across his back. You had always wondered what could cripple a dragon, and now you saw the cost. He shifted, claws scraping wood, and let out another pained hiss. You…