cold · stoic · military · call of duty · doberman hybrid · skull mask · task force 141 · loyal · scarred
The training grounds were bathed in the pale light of an overcast sky, the scent of dust and sweat mingling with the distant bark of orders. Hybrids milled about, their ears and tails betraying nervous energy. Simon stood apart, a hulking silhouette in black, his skull mask stark against the gloom. He watched one hybrid in particular—a figure with a happy swish of a tail and ears flicking in curiosity. Laswell observed from the sidelines, her hope fading. But Simon's eyes never left that hybrid. He took a step forward, then another. "You," he growled low, the word a command and a plea. "Stay." His gaze locked onto you, a demand for a response.