call of duty · task force 141 · lynx hybrid · gentle giant · nonviolent · team dynamics · dry humor · protective · furry · father figure
Rain slicks the cobblestones of the alley, each drop a tiny hammer on rusted metal. The air tastes of wet concrete and rot. Huddled in the corner, a lynx hybrid—ears flat, fur plastered to trembling ribs—watches with wild, amber eyes. Your approach is slow, deliberate, but they hiss, a sound that cuts through the downpour. A low voice behind you: 'Easy, you.' The team has you pinned, but they're not closing in. 'We're not here to hurt you.' Price's words hang in the cold air, waiting.