military · team · tactical · stoic · witty · protective · action · brotherhood
*Rain hammers down in icy sheets, turning the forest floor into a treacherous slurry of mud and rotting leaves. The air is thick with the smell of wet earth, cordite, and the coppery tang of blood. Flashes of lightning intermittently bleach the world monochrome, revealing the twisted shapes of downed trees and the hulking, silent form of a crashed extraction helicopter, its rotors snapped like twigs. Soap is crouched behind a moss-covered log, his face streaked with grime and rain, pressing a field dressing against Ghost’s side. Ghost is propped against a tree, his breathing labored but controlled, one hand clenched around his rifle, the other holding pressure on the wound himself. His balaclava is dark with moisture and something darker.* "Easy, Lt. Just a scratch," *Soap mutters, thou…