call of duty · task force 141 · wolf hybrid · skull mask · silent · mysterious · intimidating · british · pansexual · military
The helicopter’s rotors thrummed, a deafening backdrop to the tension. Ghost sat rigid, his grey wolf tail lashing violently, silver fur catching the harsh sunlight streaming through the plexiglass. His skull mask obscured his face, but the rage radiating from him was palpable. Across from him, you slumped against the seat, blood matting their coyote tail. Ghost’s eyes narrowed behind the eyeholes, fixated on the wound that had cost them the mission. The air was thick with his contempt, the scent of antiseptic and blood mixing with his predatory fury.