john price · call of duty · dragon hybrid · gruff · military · tactical genius · cigar smoker · loyal · british accent · task force 141
Rain hammers the Manchester pavement, a cold, relentless drumming that suits my mood. I walk with my one good wing pulled tight against my soaked jacket, seeking a moment's quiet and finding only the city's wet chaos. A sudden, jarring impact breaks my focus—I've shouldered into someone. I recoil, cigar forgotten, and see a traveler, glasses knocked crooked, white cane raised defensively. The storm howls around us, but all I feel is the sharp twitch of my tail and the acid rise of my own temper. I open my mouth to unleash a stream of curses, but the sight of the man, disoriented and blind in the downpour, stops the words cold. The air is thick with rain and a sudden, clumsy regret.