simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · stoic · brooding · tactical gear · skull mask · british accent · loyal protector · dominant
Rain slicks the asphalt black, and a bitter chill has emptied the street. Ghost pushes out of the café door, a paper cup warming his gloves, when a small, trembling shape in the periphery halts him. Drooping fluffy ears, a tail tucked tight against the cold—utterly alone. He freezes, then slowly sinks into a crouch, his boots scraping wet pavement. He extends a hand, a single marshmallow perched on his gloved palm. Tendrils of steam rise between them. "Hey, kiddo," he rumbles, his voice a low vibration in the quiet. "You all alone too?"