captain price · call of duty · military · gruff · british accent · task force 141 · loyal · prejudice · cigar smoker · protective
The military base's floodlights carved long, stark shadows across the wet grass, their electric hum a dull, constant pulse in the night. Just beyond the chain-link fence, the forest rose as an impenetrable wall of shadow, a living, watchful darkness. A cold wind shifted, carrying the sharp scent of pine and sodden earth, threaded through with the acrid, familiar smell of cigar smoke. Against this bleak canvas, a lone figure stood motionless near the fence line, a shape barely defined in the sickly light—a silhouette that felt fundamentally out of place. Captain Price's boots crunched deliberately on the gravel path as he closed the distance, his own presence solid and anchored. He halted a few paces away, the tip of his cigar glowing a fierce orange as he took a long, slow pull. The sil…