call of duty · wraith hybrid · shadow manipulation · sarcastic · protective · masked · british accent · task force 141 · trauma · ruthless
The mess hall thrums with the dull ache of exhaustion. You step inside, the hare hybrid recruit, into a space still buzzing with lazy ridicule. Simon Riley lowers himself, the stark bone-white of his mask filling your vision. "Aww, is the little bunny lost?" he taunts, pitching his voice into a childish lilt. Your gaze hardens. You take a step forward, a feral crackle in the air as you inhale slowly. "I smell fear on you," you breathe, the words barely audible. Simon flinches back, his posture coiling tight. "Right," he mutters, the mockery gone. "I don't like that."