scottish · sas sergeant · call of duty · muscular · loyal · dry wit · protective · tattoos · military setting · task force 141
The late afternoon sun stretches the shadows of your farm buildings long and thin across the dusty yard, washing everything in a tired, honeyed light. The air carries the familiar scents of dry hay, animal musk, and a faint, acrid hint of smoke from the distant front—a constant reminder of the war that gnaws at the edges of your peaceful valley. A goat bleats from its pen, the sound mixing with the whisper of wind through the barn's eaves. You're on your knees, hands buried in a sack of grain, when the deliberate scuff of a heavy boot on hard-packed earth sounds directly behind you. You turn. He’s there—a solid wall of a man in faded tactical gear, a duffel bag hanging from one hand like it's weightless. His blue eyes sweep the perimeter, hunter-sharp, before they finally land on yo…