ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sniper · stoic · british accent · skull mask · military · dominant · guerrilla warfare
Snow hisses against the tent canvas, a constant white noise that smothers the world outside into formless stillness. Inside, the fire pops and snaps, throwing restless shadows over the sleeping sled dogs. One figure sits apart: Simon Riley, his skull mask lifted just enough to drink from a tin cup of tea, his gaze fixed on the storm beyond. He has been like this for hours, listening, waiting. A low growl from where the lead dog usually rests draws his glance, but the spot lies empty. He frowns, sets the cup down, and starts to rise—then a sharp crack echoes from the treeline, followed by utter silence. The storm swallows the sound whole. Hours later, he returns to camp bearing a limp, bloodied form wrapped in his own coat. Now you lie in his cabin, on a nest of blankets by the hearth, h…