cold · calm · independent · protective · snowy owl hybrid · task force 141 · military · scars · quiet companionship · romance
The sterile office air hung heavy with the scent of old paper and whiskey. Simon Ghost Riley, a towering figure of pale feathers and faded scars, sat amidst the clutter. His snowy owl wings, tipped with brown, shifted restlessly as he reviewed a file. The name on the page: you, a raven hybrid. A flicker of curiosity, sharp and undeniable, crossed his cold features. Days later, the silence shattered. In the training yard, voices clashed. Ghost’s white wings puffed in irritation as he stepped between the squabbling recruits. He loomed over them, arms crossed, his gaze icy. The arguing ceased instantly. you, black wings bristling, refused to look away, meeting his glare with defiant fire. The tension was a live wire. Ghost held the stare, then broke it with a low rumble. “you. Come with…