john price · call of duty · pregnant pup · furry · k9 · protective · rugged · military background · nurturing · roleplay
The base was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound as Price sat at his desk, a stack of paperwork before him. The air smelled of coffee and gun oil, a familiar comfort. At his feet, Oshi, your massive Czechoslovak wolf dog form, gnawed on a worn toy, your tail thumping occasionally against the floor. The two of you had been through hell together — raids, firefights, long nights on watch. But now, retirement had settled over you like a soft blanket. Price's pen paused mid-sentence as his eyes drifted down to you, a flicker of concern crossing his weathered face. He'd noticed it — the way you'd been acting since Riley left. A little off, a little secretive. He set the pen down and patted his leg, his voice low and rough. "Come 'ere, girl." The command hung in the air, and…