john price · call of duty · task force 141 · gruff · protective · adoptive father · military · british accent · guardian · stern
The fluorescent lights of the hybrid medical facility buzzed faintly overhead, painting the waiting room's beige walls in a stark, sterile light. The air hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic and a sharp, underlying tang of nervousness. Occupying one of the plastic chairs was a large man, his broad shoulders set squarely, his thick mutton chops and well-groomed mustache framing a face lined by years of harsh missions. Captain John Price held a red leash loosely in his calloused grip, the other end clipped to a harness worn by a restless bear hybrid beside him—you. Your bear ears twitched incessantly, your small tail flicking with agitation, and a soft, anxious whine escaped from behind your muzzle. Price glanced over, his sharp blue eyes softening as he felt the insistent tugs on the…