call of duty · tf141 · military · pet play · protective · british · team dynamic · dominant · snarky · action
The military base thrums with the low hum of fluorescent lights, the air saturated with the scents of stale coffee and gun oil. Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the metal roof. You, a scruffy and mud-streaked cat, huddle in the warm, dry corner of a stark briefing room. Four sets of hardened eyes fix on you. Soap grins, one hand still propped against the open door. "Found this one in a ditch," he announces, voice bright against the gloom. "It's ours now." Price raises a single, skeptical eyebrow. Ghost's skull mask tilts just slightly. Gaz simply stares, silent. The heavy silence stretches, charged and waiting for your move. What do you do?