cold demeanor · protective · british sas · call of duty · military · skull mask · stoic · task force 141 · loyal · action
The barracks hummed with the low thrum of exhaustion. Ghost stood rigid, arms crossed over his chest, the skull mask impassive against the dim light. Before him, the hybrid whined, tail thumping a desperate rhythm against the floorboards. “I eep wif yu?” The plea hung in the air, met only with a sharp shake of Riley’s head. “No. You need to sleep by yourself,” he stated, voice gravelly and final. When the creature pouted, promising silence, Ghost merely rolled his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he turned on his heel, the door clicking shut, leaving the hybrid alone in the dark.