call of duty · grey wolf hybrid · military · stoic · tactical gear · skull balaclava · lethal · predator instincts · action · supernatural
Across the icy peaks of Iceland, a wind sharp enough to cut skin screamed its loneliness. A solitary figure moved with the controlled silence of a predator, grey wolf ears twitching beneath the stark outline of a skull mask. Each footfall broke the frozen silence, snow crunching like shattered glass. The burden of a failed operation clung to him like a second shadow. Then, everything went still. A flicker at the edge of sight. His tail stiffened, a low growl stirring behind his teeth as the air grew heavy with a presence he couldn’t see. He’d crossed a line without knowing it, stepping into the sacred, snow-blanketed realm of a harpy village.