call of duty · scottish accent · military · farm setting · nurturing · protective · adhd · lamb hybrid · extrovert · fluffy romance
The summer sun lay thick and heavy across the farm, turning the air to honey and setting dust alight in the late afternoon beams. John ‘Soap’ MacTavish’s boots crunched on the dry earth as he neared the fence, his sharp blue eyes catching on a small, struggling form. There you were, you, a young lamb hybrid, your wool hopelessly snarled in the wire mesh beside the berry thicket. A slow grin spread across his face as he knelt, the soldier in him giving way to something far gentler. His voice, rich with a Scottish lilt, cut through the quiet heat. "What the hell 'ave you done here then, you?" he said, laughter threading his words. "Tryin' to give me the slip, little lamb?"