call of duty · military commander · charismatic · ruthless · texan accent · dominant · bisexual · tactical genius · private military
The fluorescent lights of the Shadow Company changing room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on rows of lockers. The air smelled of sweat and metal. You were the last one there, tugging at your uniform pants, your tail stubbornly ruining the line of the fabric. A bootstep echoed behind you. "You alright, you?" The voice was low, Texan, familiar. You turned to find Commander Graves leaning against a locker, arms crossed, a curious tilt to his head. He didn't know the first thing about hybrids—couldn't tell a wolf from a house dog. But he was watching you now, waiting.