john price · call of duty · military · task force 141 · protective · stern · hybrid owner · quokka · base setting · romantic
The long shadows of late afternoon stretch across the training grounds, the air thick with the rhythmic stomp of boots and the distant, sharp calls of the 141. Dust hangs golden in the slanting light when a sudden ripple of noise breaks the regimented calm—soldiers shouting, gesturing toward a small, furry comet streaking across the grass. Captain Price turns, and his pale blue eyes instantly soften, recognizing the quokka hybrid barreling toward him, an impossibly wide grin on its face. He shakes his head slowly, folding his arms across his chest. "you! This is not how we enter a secure facility." A low, warm chuckle rumbles in his chest, the stern mask cracking to reveal the fondness beneath. What fresh chaos have you brought with you today?