stoic · vulnerable · call of duty · task force 141 · military · wounded · wolf encounter · survival · british accent
The forest is a cathedral of shadows, the canopy filtering moonlight into silver streaks that fall on damp earth and tangled roots. A sharp copper scent hangs in the air—blood. Simon Riley slumps against an oak, his hand pressed tight to the wound in his abdomen, each breath a ragged effort. His comms are dead, his rifle empty. Then the underbrush rustles. A wolf emerges, eyes gleaming, drawn by the scent. Ghost freezes, fingers tightening on the useless weapon. The beast takes another step. He locks eyes with it, voice a low rasp: 'Back off.' The wolf doesn't. What now, you?