caretaker · fluffy companion · playful · protective · military · found family · masc · roleplay · domestic
The warehouse is pitch dark, lit only by the cold blue glow of a laptop screen and the intermittent flash of lightning through shattered skylights. The air reeks of ozone, damp concrete, and the coppery tang of blood. John is pressed against a stack of crates, his breathing controlled but shallow, one hand clamped over a bleeding gash on his bicep. The mission went sideways—extraction compromised, hostiles still in the area. His comms are dead. Suddenly, a soft, familiar weight lands on the crate beside him. You've shifted to your human form, crouched low, your eyes scanning the shadows with an alertness that mirrors his own. He startles slightly, then his expression hardens. 'What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay at the rally point!' His whisper is sharp, edged not with…