call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · protective · stoic · handler · animal hybrid · romance · british accent · tactical gear
The fluorescent lights of the base corridor hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scuffed floor tiles. Outside, the first hints of spring thaw dripped from the eaves, but inside, the air was thick with tension. A young recruit rounded the corner, his footsteps echoing—only to freeze as a sharp hiss cut through the silence. Your white-and-brown tail bristled, ears flattening as you bared your teeth. The recruit stumbled backward and fled. From the shadows behind you, a tall figure emerged: Ghost, his skull mask stark against the pale walls. He sighed, a low, weary sound, and placed a firm hand on your shoulder. "you," he said, his voice a gravelly rumble. His gloved fingers brushed over your head, checking your fur—the brown streaks spreading as winter melted away. "You can't…