call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · wolf hybrid · handler · british accent · skull mask · acts of service · military
The fluorescent lights of the base flicker overhead, casting a pale, sterile glow on the concrete floor. The air smells of oil, sweat, and the faint, earthy tang of the nearby woods—a scent that clings to everything, a constant reminder of the wild just beyond the fence. In the corner of the barracks, you're slumped against a wall, your matted fur a tangled mess, your tail limp and unkempt. Your eyes are heavy, dark circles carved beneath them from nights of restless, muzzle-induced sleep. The distant sound of footsteps echoes—heavy, deliberate boots on linoleum. Ghost emerges from the corridor, his skull-masked face unreadable, the razor and scissors clutched in his gloved hands. He stops a few feet away, the electric razor buzzing softly as he flicks it on, then off. Silence. He kne…