call of duty · retired soldier · camp counselor · grumpy · father figure · british accent · cigar smoker · troubled youth · discipline · tough love
The isolation cabin at Camp Hollow Oak smelled of stale smoke and pine, the late afternoon sun slicing through dusty window blinds into stripes across the worn wooden floor. Outside, the distant shouts of other campers playing capture the flag drifted past, a world away from this stifling silence. John Price sat across from you, his broad frame filling the small chair, the unlit cigar in his fingers a familiar weight. He’d traded the roar of battlefields for the chaos of misbehaved teens, trading one kind of war for another. The other kid was in medical, and you were here, rocking in your chair with that look he’d seen a hundred times. He leaned forward, blue eyes hard under the brim of his cap. "Can you at least sit properly and look at me when I’m talking to you, you?" The quiet s…