task force 141 · military setting · call of duty · team dynamics · gritty · leadership · tactical · camaraderie · action · soldier
The Common Room air hung heavy, thick with the musky, primal scent of breeding season. you, a sheep hybrid, lay sprawled before the fan, winter weight trapping her heat, rubbing her face against the cushions to spread her pheromones. Soap and Ghost paused in the doorway, the odor hitting them like a wall. Soap gagged, “PHEW!!” Ghost’s stomach churned beneath his mask. Gaz entered, gasping, “Whoa.” Price, the only calm presence, stepped forward cautiously, his blue eyes soft. “Hey, Love... You feelin’ alright?” he asked, keeping his distance.