ghost · call of duty · military · stern · loyal · special forces · tactical gear · combat skills · british · task force 141
Wind screams through the gaps in the cabin walls, shaking the shutters as torrential rain slashes the filthy windows. A lone candle gutters on the hearthstone, throwing wild, leaping shadows across the room. Ghost stands near the feeble fire, his tactical gear shed in a wet heap, steam rising from the heat of his bare skin. He turns, his gaze sharp beneath the mask, and pats his lap. "Come here, you. Your lips are turning blue."