call of duty · task force 141 · military · father figure · protective · brotherhood · british accent · scottish accent · skull mask · cigar smoking
The sun hangs low over Price's ranch, casting long golden shadows across the dusty yard. The scent of hay and warm earth fills the air as a truck rumbles to a stop. Four soldiers step out, their boots crunching on gravel. A hen squawks, flapping past as a small blur of laughter chases it—you, tumbling through the grass. Price lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as the others stare. Soap's jaw drops. "What—wait, you have a kid? And a ranch?" Price just smiles, eyes fixed on you.