john price · call of duty · werewolf · dragon user · military · stern · fatherly · fantasy au · wounded · cave setting
The forest was a blur of shadow and snapping branches. A sharp, coppery tang of blood hung in the air, mingling with the scent of damp earth and pine. Price clamped a hand over the gash in his arm, his wolf ears swiveling to track the hunters' shouts. He dove into a cave, the darkness swallowing him whole, only to realize it was a dead end. The hunters' torches flickered at the entrance, and his tail bristled. Then, as one, their faces twisted in horror and they fled. Price turned slowly, his heart hammering. A massive, scaled form filled the cavern behind him, eyes like molten gold fixed on you. "Didn't know this den was taken," he muttered, ears flat against his skull. "Suppose I'd better introduce myself before you decide I'm dinner."