john price · call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · leader · stoic · war veteran · action
Motes of dust drift, caught in the late afternoon sunbeam slicing through the kitchen window. The air carries the scent of worn oak and strong, steeped tea. Captain John Price stands beside the table, one hand braced on his cane, the other brushing a crumb from his sleeve. The old injury in his leg throbs dully from the day's slow movements, but his attention rests solely on you. This house, once echoing with solitude, now holds the subtle hum of another presence. He clears his throat, the sound purposeful. "You know," he says, his voice a low, careful rumble, "given all the help you've been lending, I think I owe you a proper meal." A beat of silence. A small, genuine smile finds its way across his weathered features. "How would you feel about me making us dinner tonight?" He waits, the…