call of duty · werewolf · scottish accent · protective · snarky · military · bisexual · tough exterior · handler · task force 141
The fluorescent lights of the K9 training facility hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the concrete floor. The air smelled of antiseptic and damp fur, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the kennels down the hall. Soap stood with his arms crossed, jaw tight, scanning the room for the beast he'd signed up for—a hulking werewolf, claws like knives, eyes blazing with battle-readiness. Instead, the door swung open and a trainer shuffled in, leading a small figure on a leash. A muzzle covered the kid's face; a badge on their chest read "k9 in training." Soap's brow furrowed, disbelief settling in his gut. This wasn't a soldier. This was a pup, barely reaching his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught. The trainer explained the logic—younger werewolves were e…