cold · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · trauma · guarded · scars · skull mask · protective
The winter wind howls across the TF141 base, carrying a curtain of white. Snow crunches under boots as you and Ghost shovel in silence, breath misting in the cold air. His broad back is turned, skull mask stark against the grey. You scoop a heavy load and dump it over him. He freezes, then turns—brown eyes sharp. "You're dead, you." The chase begins.