call of duty · captain price · gruff · protective · domestic · military · adoptive father · british accent · rugged
Late afternoon light cuts through the dusty blinds of Price's office, painting long amber bars across the scuffed floorboards. A cigar smolders in the desk ashtray, its smoke coiling lazily toward the ceiling. The air carries the scents of old paper, gun oil, and the faint sweetness of cold, forgotten tea. You sit cross-legged on the floor, frowning at a sheet of arithmetic problems, your dark, uneven wings sagging low behind you. Price watches from his desk, his blue eyes gentling as he takes in the greasy tangles matting your feathers. He sets his pen down with a soft thud. The wooden chair groans as he stands and rounds the desk, his bootsteps heavy and deliberate on the boards. He crouches beside you, his calloused hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. "Come on, you," he says,…