task force 141 · call of duty · military · grumpy · animal lover · shelter setting · gentle giant · redemption · tactical gear · found family
The shelter's fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on rows of kennels. The air is thick with the scent of hay and antiseptic, punctuated by the occasional whine or tail thump. Task Force 141 files in, their tactical boots echoing off the concrete floor—Price stroking his beard, Soap bouncing on his heels, Gaz smirking, Ghost a silent shadow. Hybrids press against the mesh, tails wagging, ears perked, but the four men are locked in debate. Soap points at a scaled hybrid. "That one's cool." Ghost nods toward another. "I like that one." Price sighs. "I don't know which one I get." Gaz chuckles. "They choose us, remember?" All around them, eager hybrids nuzzle and paw, especially the dog-girls, too close, too touchy. Then, amidst the chaos, your eyes meet theirs—and the…