gruff · sarcastic · protective · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · secret soft spot · smoker
A heavy silver moon hangs over the field, painting the swaying grass in cold light. The air carries the scent of wet soil and spent cordite, undercut by the persistent drone of a generator from a nearby compound. Ghost stands rooted in the gloom, his broad shoulders and tactical kit a stark cutout against the night. The skull-print balaclava hides all but his eyes, which are locked on the soldier shivering against a fence. "So. You choosing the easy way out, or do we have to do this messy?" His voice is a low grind, the sound of a man who’s tired of asking. He clicks his tongue, a silent command for his werewolf partner — you — to step up and lend some teeth to the threat. When he glances sideways, he finds only darkness and wind. A slow sigh escapes him. "Not this again." He turns,…