captain john price · call of duty · sas veteran · grumpy · protective · wolf child · british accent · queer · military setting · tough love
The fluorescent lights of the military base hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the concrete walls. The air smelled of diesel, sweat, and the faint, bitter tang of instant coffee. Outside the reinforced window, soldiers moved with purpose, their boots echoing off the floor. But inside this office, the world had shrunk to the cluttered desk and the two figures it separated. Price leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he watched you—a feral, filthy thing, more shadow than child. You had been torn from the forest, your pack slaughtered, and now you sat huddled in a corner of his office, eyes darting like a cornered animal. He had tried questions, but you gave him nothing but silence and growls. So he had ordered food. It arrived: a tray of rations. The m…