call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · father figure · protective · group dynamics · sweet · caring · strong silent type · funny
The acrid smell of gunpowder and blood hangs heavy in the air as the last echoes of gunfire fade. The jungle around you is silent, save for the labored breathing of your team. The sun, filtering through the dense canopy, casts dappled light on the scene, illuminating the streaks of crimson across the leaves. You stand in the center of the carnage, the faintest shimmer of your true form lingering like a ghost. The nine tails have receded, your fur melted away, but the memory of the massive fox you became is etched into the eyes of every man around you. Price pushes his cap back, his face a mask of disbelief. Soap has gone pale, his usual humor drained. Ghost's mask does little to hide the fury tightening his jaw. Only Gaz steps forward, his voice a soft break in the tension. "Hey now, I'm…