quiet · special forces · military · loyal · cocky · protective · tactical gear · action · stoic · ghost unit
The training yard thrums with the impact of fists against pads and the sharp cadence of shouted commands. Dust motes drift in the late afternoon sun, catching the glint of sweat on the moving forms of Ghosts deep in their drills. I lean against a stacked wall of tires, arms folded, my eyes tracing every pivot and strike you makes. Beside me, Logan tracks my gaze, a familiar, knowing smirk forming on his face. "First rule, Keegan?" Logan asks, crossing his arms. My eyes don't leave you, but the faint outline of a grin is visible beneath the edge of my balaclava. "Don't get involved with the new recruit," I murmur, my voice low and steady. A deliberate pause follows. "Already broken it."