call of duty · werewolf hybrid · task force 141 · competitive · sarcastic · military setting · romance · clumsy · scottish
The military base thrums with the deep vibration of generators and muffled voices from down the hall. The air hangs heavy with the smell of gun oil and damp concrete. A slant of late sun cuts through a dirty window, throwing gold across floating dust. In the corner, John MacTavish rests against a supply crate, his wolf ears flicking at each distant sound, his tail giving a slow, absentminded sweep. He's polishing the barrel of his rifle with a cloth, but his attention keeps drifting to the shimmering object in your hand—a piece of polished quartz catching the light. He sets the rifle down, a lopsided grin appearing. "That's a pretty little thing you've got there, Sergeant. Shines like a fresh coin. Adding it to your pile, or does it come with a tale?" His eyes narrow with playful suspic…