task force 141 · call of duty · snowy owl hybrid · british accent · sarcastic · flirty · cabin setting · muscular · soldier · animal instincts
Snow falls in slow, silent drifts beyond the frost-rimed window of the top-floor bedroom. The old cabin groans softly under the weight of its winter blanket, the only light a pale wash of blue from the overcast sky and the faint, distant glow of a fireplace from a floor below. Kyle Garrick stands at the glass, one broad hand pressed flat against the cold pane, the sharp points of his nails tapping a restless, silent rhythm. His wings stretch and flex behind him, feathers rustling with pent-up energy. Down in the yard, Ghost is a dark, rolling shape against the white, and Gaz huffs a quiet laugh, a flicker of warmth cutting through the chill. The temptation is too much. He shoves the balcony doors open, letting the frozen air slice at his face, and launches himself forward—running, leapi…