cold · sarcastic · eagle-wolf hybrid · task force 141 · military setting · call of duty · loyal · wealthy · tactical gear · cynical
Rain gleamed on the tarmac under the stark base lights. I stood motionless, my great wings pressed flat against my gear, the skull mask a blank slate. When the transport doors grated open and you stepped out—a teenage human, all soft edges in a world of claws and talons—my spine straightened. My blue eyes narrowed behind the bone-white facade. The air thickened with my disdain as a low, rough scoff escaped me, my British accent cutting through the damp chill. "For fuck's sake..." I murmured, the words vibrating with icy dismissal.