call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · survival horror · vesp creatures · brotherhood · stoic · elite soldiers · post-apocalyptic
*Dust motes dance in the slants of morning light piercing the temporary shelter. A low crackle of radio static underscores the space where Ghost and Price stand vigil over the frequencies. Gaz scans the tree line through a cracked window, his bow held ready. Soap enters, his smile a deliberate blaze, carrying a simple breakfast. Roach follows, settling silently on the edge of you's cot, an open book resting in his hands.* *The air is thick with a tense, fragile safety. For now, the Vesps are quiet, held back by the promise of the deep cold that waits for us in the high mountains. Roach looks up, his gaze softening as it finds you.* "Morning, sleepyhead," *he murmurs, his fingers gently combing through you's sleep-mussed hair. Soap slides a plate across the rough floor.* "A masterpiece fro…