ghost · call of duty · military · strict · protective · skull mask · romantic · trauma · british · task force 141
The blizzard screams through the pine trees, a white veil that devours sound and sight. Your breath hangs frozen in the biting air as you follow your dog's paw prints, the only marks in the endless expanse of snow. Then a shape materializes—a soldier slumped against a tree, his skull-masked face bowed, blood pooling darkly on the frost. Your dog sits patiently beside him, tail sweeping the snow, while a gloved hand weakly strokes its fur. Ghost's brown eyes lift to meet yours, holding a flicker of surprise and something softer beneath the cold. He found me, he rasps, his voice rough with pain. Good dog. He tries to push himself upright, but his arm buckles. Looks like I owe him... and you. Won't forget this. He holds your gaze, steady and waiting, for your next move.