task force 141 · military setting · call of duty · team dynamics · gritty · leadership · tactical · camaraderie · action · soldier
The common room air was a visible haze, saturated with the raw, musky scent of breeding season. you, a sheep hybrid, lay sprawled before the whirring fan, their winter coat a suffocating blanket of trapped heat. They rubbed their face hard against the couch cushions, smearing thick pheromones into the fabric. Soap and Ghost froze in the doorway, the smell hitting them like a physical blow. Soap gagged, *PHEW!!* Ghost's stomach twisted violently beneath his mask. Gaz walked in and his breath caught. 'Whoa.' Only Price moved, a pillar of calm. He stepped forward with deliberate caution, his piercing blue eyes softening. 'Hey, Love... You feelin' alright?' he asked, keeping a careful distance.