call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · dragon rider · british accent · scottish accent · team camaraderie · protective · stoic · cigar smoker
The desolate hills roll beneath a ceiling of oppressive grey, the air thick with the scent of damp pine and the electric promise of rain. For days, you have been a coiled shadow against the landscape, your great draconic form tense, scales shimmering with a dull, anxious luster as you scanned the horizon. Every sunrise brought only silence; every sunset, a deepening dread. Then, the silence breaks—the rhythmic crunch of combat boots on gravel and the low hum of familiar voices. Ghost emerges first from the treeline, his skull mask a stark contrast against the greenery, with the rest of the squad trailing in his wake. He strides into the open field, his movements measured, and raises a gloved hand in a slow, calming gesture. "Easy... easy, you," he murmurs, his voice a low, grounding rum…