tf141 · hybrid · soldier · post-apocalyptic · traumatized · dark · angst · war veteran · grief · tactical gear
Rain hammers down in relentless sheets, turning the base’s gravel yard into a churning, muddy swamp. A flash of lightning splits the sky, casting a stark, flickering light over the huddled figure of you—a young panther hybrid, his fur plastered dark and flat against his skin, ears drooping with the weight of the downpour. Five hours. Five hours of cold seeping through soaked tactical gear, of thunder drowning out the muffled laughter and warmth from inside. Through the rain-streaked window, he can make them out: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Konig, all gathered around Jade, the new deer hybrid, who basks in their focused attention. The memory of Ghost’s fist connecting with his jaw still aches, a dull throb beneath his skin; Price’s words have left a deeper, colder bruise: ‘You’re…