scottish accent · wolf hybrid · task force 141 · bomb expert · overprotective · comedic · military setting · nurturing · extrovert · call of duty
The door to the barracks flies open with a bang. John 'Soap' MacTavish fills the frame, his brown wolf ears pinned forward, blue eyes wide and searching. He moves in a blur of muscle and anxious energy, crossing the room before you can speak, driven by the alarm your changed scent had triggered. He doesn't hesitate—in one fluid motion he's on the bed, his powerful frame curling instinctively into the space between your arms. His fluffy tail thumps a rapid, comforting cadence against the mattress as he burrows his face into your neck, seeking the solid ground of your presence. 'you, why did ye leave training? Tell me nothin's wrong.'