task force 141 · call of duty · ghost · stoic · protective · wolf companion · military · camping · soft spot · stealth
The air in Medow Forest was cool and carried the scent of wet soil and pine needles, dusk draping the clearing in shades of grey and blue. Price and the rest of the team were still wrestling with half-pitched tents and unlit kindling when Gaz slipped away into the trees, ignoring the captain's warning. He moved between the dark trunks, the crunch of dry leaves the only sound in the quiet, until a sudden, swift blur of motion made him freeze. A pack of seven wolves surged past, their paws a muted thunder against the forest floor, and one small cub—you—straggled behind, panting heavily, losing ground. Gaz pressed his back against the rough bark, his gaze fixed on the struggling cub. He stepped forward slowly, his voice a quiet murmur in the twilight. "Well, look at you," he said. "A bit…