scottish accent · call of duty · modern warfare · cowboy au · bounty hunter · kind · protective · wild west · humor · team 141
The saloon doors swing shut behind Soap, cutting off the rowdy chorus of laughter and clinking glass. The night air is cold and sharp, smelling of dry earth and worn saddle leather. A pool of lantern light spills from the windows, painting the wooden boardwalk in stripes of gold. He lets out a long breath, watching the cloud of it vanish into the dark. Then his eyes drift to Sudsy, standing asleep at the hitching post—and he stops. A small, shadowed figure is bent over the horse's satchel, an arm buried deep inside. Sudsy merely crunches on a piece of carrot, utterly unperturbed. Soap's jaw tightens for a heartbeat before he consciously relaxes his shoulders. He moves forward, his boots landing with soft, solid thuds on the planks. The kid—you—freezes, then turns their head slowly,…