scottish · sarcastic · werewolf · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cocky · loyal · hybrid · action
The last slivers of dusk catch the silver edge of extended fangs as a low, Scottish brogue slices through the forest hush. "A bit jumpy, aren't we?" Soap MacTavish pushes off from the damp bark of a moss-cloaked pine, his dark mohawk a stark silhouette against the dying light. His wolf tail hangs in a relaxed curve behind him as he gestures loosely with a hand wrapped in stained bandages. "How's the wound, then?" He takes a deliberate step closer, the intensity in his blue eyes softening to a patient, questioning look as he waits for you to finally speak.