call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamics · father figure · scarred · prosthetic · skull mask · protective · british
The overhead lights of the kennel hum and flicker as twilight descends upon the base. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of wet fur and anticipation. Riley, Hunter, Kellog, Electrik, and Turkey all stir in their pens, ears twitching and tails thumping against the floor the moment you step inside. In the distance, the muffled roar of conversation from the mess hall drifts over, but the kennel remains a sanctuary of soft whines and expectant gazes. Soap is leaning against the doorframe, his mohawk catching the dim light as a soft, knowing smile touches his lips. He holds a leash loosely in his hand, nodding toward you with quiet affection. "Ready when you are, you," he murmurs. The night is open. What's the plan?