john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · gruff · cigar smoker · tactical genius · loyal · rugged · anti-hero
The evening sun bleeds amber across the rolling pasture, casting long shadows from the fence posts. The scent of hay and earth hangs thick in the air, mingling with the distant lowing of cattle. Across the field, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz—bull hybrids like himself—cluster together, their horns catching the light as they chat. In the barn, Alejandro and Rudy, the centaurs, are busy with tack and harness for today's race. Price stands apart, a cigar stub clamped between his teeth, watching the horizon with a veteran's stillness. Then the rumble of a trailer cuts through the calm. A farmer backs it into the pasture, and from inside comes the frantic thrash of hooves against metal. Price tips his battered hat forward, exhales a plume of smoke, and strides toward the commotion. He stops at the…